HTLJ: No Matter What
by Arianna18
Summary: After graduating from the academy, Hercules and Iolaus begin their adult life together, fighting back-to-back.


Disclaimer: The words of the song by Andrew Lloyd Webber, from Whistle Down the Wind, 'No Matter What', performed by Boyzone, suggested this story to me, of how Hercules and Iolaus make the transition from childhood friends to lifelong partners fully committed to one another, from the youths they were in the Young Herc series, to the men we see in HTLJ. The stanzas of the song appear in italized quotes as the story unfolds.

* * *

'No matter what they tell us, no matter what they do, no matter what they teach us, what we believe is true...'

Finally, the longed-for, much anticipated, happy day had arrived! Graduation Day. The day when the cadets each officially became adults, and were finally free to act as they chose, without supervision, without every waking moment being scripted by someone else. The day when they would each walk into the world to be who they chose to be, living up to standards they set for themselves, not having to worry about 'passing' or 'failing' based on what someone else defined as 'right' or 'wrong'. No more classes! No more Fiduceous! No more endless, relentless, exhausting sessions in the exercise hall. A day to bask in the congratulations and pride of parents and friends. A day to rejoice and celebrate.

As the day dawned, cadets woke to the realization that this was IT! Spirits were high as they each rushed about packing last minute items, finding time for final words of undying friendship and the offer of good wishes to others for all success and happiness in the years ahead. Laughter, shouts of good cheer and even more good-natured banter and teasing rang through the barracks, and across the open square where all had been made ready for the ceremony and celebratory luncheon. Everyone was dressed in their best and ready to greet parents and friends as they arrived to witness the momentous passage of boys and girl to men and woman. Gods, it felt good!

The ceremony declared them to be adults...but it would be life itself which brought that transformation into full reality.

Throughout all the preparations, all the fun and laughter, Hercules kept a close eye on Iolaus. His buddy appeared to be just as joyous as everyone else was. Certainly, there could be no question that Iolaus would bid a heartfelt and hearty 'good-bye' to the classes, the studying, the tests and the teacher he fondly called 'Old Fiddleface'. No, the prospect of being free, without the threat of prison hanging over him if he failed, the deep satisfaction of knowing he'd made the grade, had achieved what he'd not even dared dream of as a youth surviving on the streets, brought a glow of happiness to Iolaus' face that Herc delighted in seeing.

It was the prospect of the ceremony and reception themselves that had the demigod a little worried. Everyone had parents or friends coming...everyone but Iolaus. His father, Skouros had died some time ago, and Iolaus' mother, Erythia, had taken off with a poet. His buddy hadn't had the time or opportunity to track her down and she hadn't sent any word as to where she was...so Iolaus hadn't been able to invite her to attend the Graduation ceremony.

Well, actually, he probably could have tracked her down through his sisters, but he hadn't tried and he wouldn't talk about why. Just clammed up and got all huffy and defensive when Herc raised the subject. Hercules figured it was because Iolaus was deeply hurt that his mother hadn't bothered to get in touch with him...and he was too ashamed of having run off, of having broken off contact with her years ago, to ask her to come now. He didn't want her to feel any obligation towards him. And, the same held true for his sisters. Hurt, shame, separation, loss. Hercules was afraid that seeing everyone else's family was bound to make Iolaus keenly aware of the lack of a family of his own.

Nevertheless, Herc had to admit, if Iolaus was feeling any of that, he was hiding it well. He laughed and joked, kidded around and teased with the best of them. But, that was in character, too. His buddy wouldn't want to bring anyone down today by burdening them with his problems...and he always took refuge in humour and pranks to camouflage feelings of hurt or inadequacy. Well, Herc was going to make certain he didn't feel alone, and that he knew he had family there with him. Herc and Alcmene were Iolaus' family, had been since they'd been kids.

As the parents and family friends started arriving, Herc rounded Iolaus up, making sure he didn't suddenly realize a need to pack something he'd forgotten or to do some last minute chores in the stable.

"Hey, c'mon Iolaus, we need to get out front. Mom'll be arriving any minute and she'll be looking for us," Herc said, looping an arm around his best friend to draw him out of the barracks.

Iolaus, who had been dreading the moment of walking out into that gathering of families, almost pulled back, but he caught the 'us' and realized that Alcmene would, indeed, be looking for both of them. In that moment, he felt the tightness around his heart, the dread of being the only guy there standing alone today, recede. They might not have been the family he'd been born with, but Herc and Alcmene were the family he loved...and he knew they both loved him. Who could need, or want, more than that?

Grinning up at Hercules, he nodded, "Right you are, buddy! We wouldn't want to keep the lady waiting." The truth was, it meant a lot to him to have Alcmene see him graduate, see him fulfill the potential she'd seen in him when she'd arranged for him to attend the Academy rather than be shipped off to prison as a thief. He wanted her to be proud of him, and it had been that silent commitment to her which had seen him through more than a few dark days of discouragement.

Herc returned the grin as they walked out into the bright sunshine of a perfect day. The crowd was growing as more and more people arrived through the gates, and the air was filled with the sound of joyful greetings and laughter.

"Mom! Hey, Mom!" Hercules called out, as he spotted Alcmene arrive. Waving to her, he and Iolaus threaded their way through the throng to welcome her with strong hugs and smiles that couldn't be wider.

"Hercules! Iolaus! Congratulations...I couldn't be prouder of either of you!" she cried as she hugged them right back. Standing back to examine them with motherly pride, she noted the changes in her son with a certain awe. "Hercules, you've grown since I last saw you!" Herc had indeed grown at least six inches in the last six months, and had filled out some, too. And, he'd let his hair grow quite a bit longer than he'd ever worn it before.

"Yeah," Iolaus said with a speculative look at his friend, "if he gets much taller he's going to hit his head on every door he ever goes through! I worry about him, Alcmene, I really do. The air must be pretty thin up there and I'm not sure he can get enough oxygen. But, don't worry...I make it a point to stick close to warn him about low doors and to make sure he doesn't get all confused."

Herc gave Iolaus a playful shove, while Alcmene laughed as she turned to the youth she had long ago come to consider her third son. "Oh, Iolaus, I always knew I could count on you to take good care of him! And, my, I have to say, you get handsomer every day!" She ruffled his hair playfully, "I like the shorter hair on you...makes you look adorable."

Iolaus didn't know whether to preen or to blush at the teasing, motherly tone in her voice, while Hercules broke out laughing. "Gods, Mom, don't encourage him. Iolaus already thinks he's every woman's dream."

Putting an arm around both their waists, she smiled at them fondly. "You're both 'every woman's dream', just don't ever take advantage of that fact!" she teased them playfully, not worried, knowing they were both too kind to ever take advantage of anyone.

They were just moving away from the gateway when there was a flurry of activity and the sound of a herald's horn. Startled, everyone turned to see who had arrived, and were surprised to see the King of Corinth stride in with a host of retainers behind him.

"Jason!" Hercules called out, happily, "We didn't expect to see you today!" as Iolaus shouted with pleasure at the same time, "Hey, buddy! What are you doing here?"

Jason grinned brightly as he waved to the gathered throng, saluted Cheiron in a gesture of respect that touched the Centaur, and moved to meet his friends. Observing the proper protocol, he first greeted Alcmene, gallantly gathering one of her hands in his, bowing low and reverently kissing it.

"It's a delight, as always, to see you, Alcmene...even if it's with reprobates like these two!" he said, only half jokingly, as he straightened his back to smile into her eyes. There was something about her that always made him feel warm inside, but he was always also a little uncomfortable to realize he found Herc's mother to be a beautiful and alluring woman.

Laughing, unaware of Jason's very mixed feelings about her, Alcmene shook her head as she pulled him into a hug. "It's so good to see you, Jason...and good of you to come."

"Why, of course I came! My best friends are graduating today! I couldn't miss that miracle...I might never see the like again!" he joked back, as he turned from Alcmene to grip the forearms of his friends in hearty acknowledgement of their status of equals in his eyes.

"Congratulations, guys...you've done good!" he said, the sincerity he felt clear in his voice and eyes, despite the teasing and banter.

"Hey, thanks, Jason...it's really great to have you here...like old times!" Iolaus said as he gave the King a playful punch on the arm.

"Yeah, it is," Herc said more quietly, but with no less pleasure or enthusiasm.

Jason gestured to someone behind him, and a servant appeared carrying two boxes, one rectangular and the other long and narrow. "I brought you both something to commemorate the day," he explained with mock solemnity, a grin playing about his lips, as he took first the rectangular box.

Turning to Hercules, he said, "Herc, you've never been one to worry about what you're wearing...but, despite all that your mother taught you about wearing clothes with no holes in them, I figured you could use a new outfit....Besides," he continued, giving Hercules an appraising look, "you've probably grown out of everything else!"

Jason handed the box to Herc with a smile and waited while the surprised, and touched, demigod broke the fastenings and opened it. Inside he found a blue sleeveless linen shirt, a long vest of a blue and green finely woven wool that could be belted over his hips, and a new pair of brown leather pants, together with a broad, brown leather belt. The clothing was wellmade, but not pretentious and the material would wear well. And, while he wasn't really conscious of it, the colours were perfect, selected to set off his eyes and golden skin.

Herc looked up with a slow smile and a slight shake of his head. "Jason, you didn't have to do this...but, thanks. And, to be honest, you're right...I have grown out of almost everything I own. This is great, really great."

Jason smiled in acknowledgement, pleased to have pleased his friend. Then, with the long, narrow box in his hands, he turned to Iolaus. "And as for you, my warrior friend, you need the proper weapon to carry with you on your journeys. The swords here in the armoury have served you until now, but I couldn't imagine you leaving the Academy unarmed." He held the box out to Iolaus, who looked at it with awed anticipation.

A sword? Of his own?

Iolaus tore the wrappings off to reveal a leather scabbard. Grasping the hilt, he drew the weapon from it's sheath, and held it out in front of him. The grip was of the finest design, lined with fur, to prevent slipping when hands were sweaty from the heat of battle. It's weight and balance were perfect, it's blade honed to perfection. He'd never seen a finer weapon, hadn't dreamed of owning one like it for years, if ever.

Slipping the sword back into its scabbard, Iolaus had to swallow hard and blink rapidly, biting his lip against the emotion he felt. Finally, able to look up at Jason without the embarrassment of tears, he said quietly, but with the expression of awe still on his face, "It's perfect, Jase...I can't believe you'd give me something like this. I don't know how to thank you."

Jason was touched by the depth of gratitude and wonder in Iolaus' eyes. This kid sure didn't have much experience with getting gifts. He put his arm around Iolaus' shoulders and hugged him. "Hey, it's no more than you deserve, buddy. I'm glad you like it," he said, just as quietly but with a warm smile.

Iolaus summoned up a grin in return, but was shamelessly glad when he heard Cheiron call out that it was time to assemble. There was a lump in his throat and he was lost for words, and that was never a good thing in his view. He gave Jason a quick hug of heartfelt thanks, then turned to move with Hercules to the area where the cadets were to sit, Jason and Alcmene taking possession of the gifts until the ceremony was over.

Cheiron waited until all had assembled and were seated. He welcomed the guests with warm courtesy, then introduced the staff of the Academy, naming their roles as tutors and coaches. He spoke about the traditions of the Academy, of it's program of learning, both in terms of its intellectual and physical challenges, commending the cadets for their successful accomplishment. Then, one after another, he called their names, and they moved forward to accept the sheepskin diplomas of graduation. Once they were all again seated, Cheiron invited everyone to stay to enjoy the celebratory luncheon, then made his final remarks to the cadets, offering a last bit of wisdom.

"You have all done well, learned all that we could teach you...and I am proud of you. You are leaving now to begin your lives outside the walls of this Academy, your lives as adults in this sometimes very difficult world we share. I entreat you to listen to your values, to stand up for what you believe in, to lead when you must, when those around you falter. But, you are young," he paused with a spare smile of understanding as he observed the predictable shuffle and sideways looks...the young always resist being reminded of their youth, but not one of them had yet reached their twentieth year, "and you are all very brave, very courageous. I caution you to not to look for trouble. Rest assured, enough of it will find you. In your travels, I hope you will find occasion to visit us, as we will always be glad of seeing you again. Go now, to chase your dreams...and to make them come true. Good-bye my friends... and may Fortune always smile upon you."

He knew they were too giddy at that moment, giddy with freedom, with the official designation of 'adult', to really take in his words, but he hoped they would remember them. Looking out at them with fond indulgence and not a little pride, he felt a twinge of sorrow at seeing them go, and sincerely hoped they would all stay safe, all live full and rich lives. After a moment of silence, he simply nodded then raised his arms and invited everyone to move to the tables at the side, which were covered with fine linen and heaped with plates of every possible delicacy, more the courtesy of the King of Corinth than the capacity of the Academy's rather mundane and spartan mess to offer.

The Academy courtyard rang with laughter and good humour, and then its walls absorbed the quieter words of leave taking as the newly graduated cadets set off with their families, heading in different directions across the hills surrounding the Academy toward their individual futures. They had all been through a lot together, and had come to know one another well. Good-byes are never easy, but these were softened by promises to visit and assurances that each one would be there for the other, if they were ever needed.

Jason and his entourage mounted their horses and set off back to Corinth after Jason had elicited his own promise from his buddies that they would visit both soon and often. Herc and Iolaus claimed their packs from the barracks, and after bidding their personal farewell to Cheiron, they followed Alcmene to her wagon outside the gate, tossing their possessions in the back. Iolaus rode with her, driving the horses, while Herc walked along beside as they headed home.

As Cheiron stood at the gate, and watched them go, he found he had a lump in his own throat. These two were special, had always been special and he both admired them and feared for them. Life would pose them harsh challenges, and he knew neither had it in him to falter or to turn away from danger or hardship. Sighing, he reflected he'd taught them all he could to prepare them, but he knew it could never be enough. They would have to find their own way now, and that was as it should be. Smiling after them, he gave a short nod as he accepted that he trusted them to find the right path, to act with integrity and courage, to be leaders and heroes. It was who they were, whether they quite understood that yet or not. Together, they were more than a match for whatever the Fates might toss their way.

* * *

They spent the first few days back at Thebes doing chores for Alcmene...fixing what needed to be fixed, preparing her garden for planting, and gathering stones for a low wall Herc planned to build around the place. Iolaus took the time for a personal errand, going into town to see the magistrate. The young man wanted to thank the official for having given him the chance to get his act together by sending him to the Academy on probation, rather than following the expected, traditional route of condemning him to jail for his crimes.

The magistrate was pleased the young man had thought to say 'thank you', had made the time to see him, to let him know he'd made the right decision on that fateful day. As Iolaus walked away, the magistrate reflected that the lad had indeed fulfilled the promise that all who had testified for him during the trial years ago had seen in his generosity, his selfless actions and his innate integrity. The older man felt a surge of pride and satisfaction for having had the wisdom to listen to Alcmene and in giving the unprecedented sentence of probation at the Academy. That young man would amount to something someday, he was certain of it.

As they each fulfilled their obligations, Herc and Iolaus also both enjoyed the home cooking and the relaxation of knowing there was nowhere they had to be. But, after three days of chores, Iolaus heard the woods and streams calling to him.

"Hey, Alcmene, how would you like some fresh fish for supper tonight?" he asked innocently at breakfast that morning.

Wise to his ways, and unsurprised at his desire to roam a little, if only to the nearest favourite fishing spot on a stream about a mile away, she simply nodded thoughtfully as she replied, "You know, I think that's a wonderful idea. I haven't had fresh fish since the last time you boys were home."

Iolaus flashed her a grin, grateful she'd engaged in his conspiracy to get Hercules to lighten up on the role of 'dutiful son'. "Hear that, Herc? Your mother would like fresh fish for supper...so, let's go!"

Hercules looked from one to the other, wondering who thought who was indulging who else, but not really caring. Smiling, he stood and waved a hand toward the door. "After you, oh great hunter and catcher of fish!"

Laughing, Iolaus led the way out the door and over the hill to the forest beyond.

As they ambled along, Iolaus raised the subject he'd been thinking about since they'd arrived...the subject of leaving again. He knew Herc thought he should stick close to home and take care of his mother. But, Iolaus had noticed Alcmene was pretty good at taking care of herself. Besides, he was ready for adventure, fairly bursting with eagerness to take on monsters, or warlords, or whatever else the Fates might throw at them! Somehow Cheiron's words of warning, to not seek out trouble or danger, had flown right over his head. They were young and strong, and there was a whole world out there, just waiting for them to discover it.

"So, Herc, where do you want to go first?" Iolaus asked as they walked up the gentle slope toward the forest.

"Go?" Hercules responded, not sure what Iolaus meant. He figured they were heading to their usual fishing spot.

"Well, yeah...there's a lot of Greece that neither of us have seen yet. And, they say you should travel when you're young...it broadens the perspective," Iolaus explained. "So, pick a direction."

"I hadn't really thought about it," Hercules admitted with a shrug, having caught the drift of the conversation. Casting Iolaus a sideways look, he continued, "I kinda hate to rush off and just leave Mother...we've been gone for years and only just got home."

Nodding, Iolaus pretended to ponder his friend's words, but he'd been waiting for this argument against heading out to nowhere in particular, just for the sake of seeking adventure. "Yeah, I can understand that," he replied thoughtfully, "but, you know Herc, your Mom doesn't expect us to hang around forever. It's not like she needs a babysitter or someone to take care of her...she's pretty good at taking care of herself."

Hercules nodded as he looked away over the hills. "I know," he admitted, not really wanting to have this conversation.

Emboldened by the admission, Iolaus hastened on with his other reason for why they should leave, "And, you've always said you want to help people...you know, 'right wrongs', 'protect the weak and vulnerable'...so, maybe it's time we got started looking for 'wrongs to right'.

Chuckling quietly, Herc shook his head as he gazed at his friend. "Are you done yet?"

"Done what?" Iolaus asked, a puzzled look on his face.

"Done manipulating me into thinking it's my idea to head off into the great unknown?" Hercules accused with a smile.

"Manipulating you? Herc, how could you think such a thing?" Iolaus protested, all injured innocence.

Hercules laughed outright at that, reaching out to give his friend a playful shove, as he replied, "Because I know you, Iolaus...and I know you're itching for adventure. Yeah, we might do something noble in the meantime, but it's the thrill of it all that you're after. Admit it!"

Iolaus sighed, a look of chagrin on his face. "Okay, you got me," he admitted wryly. But, he persisted nonetheless, a look of unfeigned eagerness lighting his face, "So, when do we go?"

"Iolaus, I..." Herc paused, his face suddenly sober, a slight frown of worry on his brow. He shook his head and looked away, biting his lip. 'This is it,' he thought, 'but, I still don't know how to do this.'

"What?" Iolaus asked, wondering at the look on his friend's face...at the hesitation. Wondering what was bothering the big guy now that they'd settled the matter of his sense of obligation to his mother.

Turning back to him, Hercules sighed, then asked quietly, "Are you really sure you want to do this?"

Puzzled, Iolaus studied Hercules, knowing his buddy was trying to work himself up to something. Herc had trouble coming straight at anything that worried him. "Sure I'm sure...what else would I want to do? It's not like we've got any obligations...there's nothing tying us here. Why wouldn't I want to look for some adventure, see more of the world?"

"Well," Herc replied, again taking an inordinate interest in the scenery, "you could do lots of things. You showed real promise as a blacksmith at the Academy...you could get a job here, get yourself a place...have a family. You know, settle down."

"I could 'settle down'? Please, Herc, I'm not that old yet...there's plenty of time for all that," Iolaus protested, waving the idea away, his aversion to the very thought of it only too plain. "And, what's with the 'you could' bit...what are you going to be doing while I'm 'getting a job'?" Iolaus countered, figuring there was more to all this.

"Well, you wouldn't have to settle down right away. You're an incredible warrior, the best I've ever seen, and you could make a name for yourself...Jason said he'd be glad to have you be a leader in his forces," Hercules continued, evading the question about his own plans, just as he was evading Iolaus' eyes.

Iolaus cocked his head, his eyes narrowing, wondering just exactly what it was that Herc was trying to tell him, not missing the evasion of his question. He crossed his arms, one hand coming up to rub his lower lip while he studied his friend. "I repeat, Hercules, what will you be doing while I'm getting Jason's palace guard into shape?"

Herc looked at the ground, his frown even more evident, his lips compressed. "I'll be doing whatever I have to do," he finally muttered.

"Which is?" Iolaus persisted.

With a shrug, Hercules shook his head, his hands coming up in an open, almost helpless gesture as he tried to find the words to explain, without somehow offending his best friend. "I don't know, Iolaus...answering calls for help to fight a monster or defend against a warlord...going who knows where to do who knows what."

Since that was exactly what Iolaus wanted to do, he was having trouble seeing the problem, unless...he felt a curious sinking feeling, and it was his turn to frown. "Herc, are you trying to tell me you don't want me to travel with you?" He'd tried to ask in a level voice, but the echo of hurt was there for Hercules to hear.

"NO!" Herc protested earnestly, quickly bringing his eyes to Iolaus' face. "That's not what I'm trying to say!"

"Then, what is it? Gods, Herc, would you just for once spit it out? I can't read your mind, you know, and playing twenty questions isn't all that much fun," Iolaus replied, both exasperated and relieved that the sudden fear he'd felt wasn't the issue.

"It's...it's dangerous...being with me is dangerous. It's not just monsters or warlords, Iolaus...you know as well as I do that sometimes the enemy is a god," Hercules struggled to explain, a note that sounded suspiciously like despair in his voice. His relatives could be deadly, and he knew they could strike out at any time, with no warning. He had to face that, live with it, but he didn't want anyone else saddled with that kind of unpredictable life, and the dangers it would undoubtedly hold.

"So what?" Iolaus protested, wondering if he should feel insulted. "Don't you think I can handle myself...that I'd just be a burden, someone else you have to protect? Gods, Herc, I thought you had more respect for me than that!"

Hercules took a deep breath. Sometimes, much as he loved him, Iolaus could be so thick. Why couldn't he see it? Why couldn't he understand the fear Hercules felt everytime he thought about what could happen to him if he stayed by Hercules' side. "Iolaus, of course I know you can handle yourself, and it's not a matter of respect. I don't know anyone who is a better warrior. And, there's no one I trust more than I trust you. You wouldn't be a burden, not any kind of burden, ever."

Iolaus shook his head. "Then, I'm afraid I still don't get it. What's the problem here?"

"The problem is I don't want you getting hurt, by getting caught in the middle of my problems," Hercules finally spelled it out, with plaintive irritation.

"Your problems," Iolaus replied scathingly, suddenly angry but not quite knowing why, feeling somehow that the statement distanced him from Hercules, from his life and friendship. "Gods, Herc, sometimes you can be so arrogant I just want to shake you," he spat out, as he turned to stride toward the forest just ahead of them.

Hercules grabbed him and spun him around. "Arrogant? What's that supposed to mean?" he shouted in hurt anger. Here he was, trying to express concern about his best friend's welfare, and he was accused of arrogance!

"Yeah, 'arrogant'," Iolaus repeated. "How come they're just 'your' problems? Does it ever even occur to you that 'your' problems are, by definition, 'my' problems? Gods, Herc, you're my best friend. Of course, your problems are my problems. Just because you're the son of Zeus doesn't mean you're able to handle whatever Ares or anybody else up on Olympus might throw at you, all by yourself. Just because you're a demigod doesn't mean you can't use a little help, or need a friend to watch your back!"

Hercules pushed a hand through his hair, trying to stay focused on the main issue. "Dammit, you're not hearing me, Iolaus. I don't want you getting hurt because of friendship, or loyalty...I just don't want you to get hurt because of me."

"So, it's okay if I get hurt stopping a palace revolt, or fighting a war, or burn myself while working in a forge...I just can't get hurt around you. Is that it?" Iolaus didn't even bother to try to hide his sarcasm behind the cover of a normal tone...his voice fairly dripped with it.

"You're not being reasonable. You know that's not what I mean," Hercules replied, his own voice flat. He didn't appreciate the sarcasm and he couldn't seem to explain the fear he felt, the knowledge he had that if Iolaus travelled with him, that it could cost him his life. And, gods, that was not a price Hercules wanted to pay for the joy of travelling with Iolaus or the security it would give him to know his best friend was watching his back.

Iolaus was about to shout back, when he saw the shadows of fear lurking in Herc's eyes, and finally understood what was going on, why Hercules was so adamant about believing Iolaus shouldn't travel with him. It wasn't about who owned what problems, or of respect or trust. It was fear, plain and simple, and an over-developed sense of responsibility.

As he paused to consider his words, Iolaus reflected there had been plenty of times when he had resented always being in the shadow of the demigod, always coming second, if he was noticed at all, when they were kids, and even more at the Academy and the various scrapes they'd gotten into there. And, for awhile, he'd wondered if he'd want to spend his life that way...always in the shadows.

And it wasn't as if he didn't understand the risks. It was hard to spend much time around Ares, or the gruesome twosome, Discord and Strife, without getting a full sense of the power of the gods and the dangers they represented.

He hadn't really thought about it much, though, hadn't been thinking about the future at all as he just tried to make the grade each day, until his uncle had come visiting. At his uncle's request, Iolaus had decided to leave with him, to follow in his uncle's footsteps as a hunter. Herc had said something then, about having imagined they'd always be partners, and that had made Iolaus think about whether or not being Herc's partner was what he wanted to be for the rest of his life.

The grim experiences that resulted from Cheiron's final assignment to them, to find the cave of the Snow Bear, had affected Iolaus profoundly. During those long, cold, dangerous days, he had come to appreciate the depth of the friendship he and Hercules shared. It wasn't just the 'good times' friendship of kids who had grown up together, not just familiarity born of long association. It was something a whole lot more than that. He had developed a faith in Herc's capabilities he had not really had before then. More, he had been deeply touched by Herc's faith in him, and Herc's willingness to support him blindly, literally. In some way he couldn't explain to himself, Hercules defined who he, himself, was...and Iolaus knew, deep down, that being with Hercules made him a better man.

It was also the first time that Hercules had really needed Iolaus, had been vulnerable and might have died without his friend's help. Iolaus had always felt a need to protect Herc, every since they'd been kids, but he hadn't really ever believed his protection was really needed by his friend. But, he'd come to understand that Herc wasn't invulnerable, that he could be badly hurt and that he did need someone to back him up.

Finally, as graduation neared, and the time for decisions about the future approached, he had decided that none of the rest of it mattered, not the being overlooked, not the dangers presented by the gods, none of it. Herc was his best friend and that was what mattered. He knew, or could imagine, the dangers his buddy faced just by being alive. And, he'd decided there was no way his best friend was going to face all of that alone. Herc deserved better...he deserved someone who cared about him, who would watch out for him, who would make sure he wasn't ever alone to face only the gods knew what.

But, he'd never said anything about any of these thoughts or feelings, not his earlier misgivings nor the depth of his commitment, to Herc, figuring his buddy just assumed that Iolaus would trail along with him. However, it now seemed as if Herc had been doing some thinking, too, and had backed away from his unguarded admission of his hopes for the future. Probably that incident with Artemis in her Sacred Grove, which had almost resulted in Iolaus' death, had made Herc think twice about his buddy being anywhere near his relatives. And, quite possibly, the experience with the Snow Bear might have only reinforced his buddy's concerns. Who knew? They had never talked about it.

Iolaus decided it was time Hercules understood, and accepted, where things stood between them.

Sighing, hands on his hips, Iolaus looked up into his best friend's eyes and said quietly, deliberately, so there could be no misunderstanding, "Okay, I get it. I understand that you are afraid for me. I understand that I could get hurt by being anywhere near you. I understand that we'll never really be able to anticipate what might happen next, or how bad it might get."

When Iolaus paused, Herc relaxed, thinking it was settled, that he would do whatever he was called to do alone. The sudden feeling of desolation that twisted around his heart was just something he'd have to get used to...it was better than risking Iolaus' life.

Iolaus, however, hadn't finished. Pointing a finger at Herc, he continued, his voice strong, brooking no argument, "But, I want you to understand some things, Hercules. I want you to understand that you don't make the decisions about how I live my life. You don't make my choices for me. I'm not some mindless idiot who doesn't know what's good for him that you have to take care of. And," he held up a hand, to stave off the objection he could see Hercules was about to make, "I want you to understand that I would rather face being hurt, or even killed, than watch you walk away alone, than leave you with no protection, no back-up. If something happened to you, that I might have been able to prevent if I'd been there, I would never, ever, be able to forgive myself. You're my best friend and I will not allow you to set me aside because you care about me. If something...bad...happens, someday, somewhere, it'll be because of my decision, my choice, to be there. It will not be your responsibility, not your fault. Do you understand?"

Hercules gazed at his friend, unwilling to accept what was being so freely offered, even though it was what he also so badly wanted and needed. "Iolaus, I..." he began, to try to argue back.

But, Iolaus cut him off with a wicked grin, "Oh, and I forgot, one more thing. Being around you is the best fun I ever have. And, I'm just too damned eager to have adventures, to fight monsters, to beat up bad guys, to let you hog all that fun to yourself. So, live with it, big guy...you're stuck with me." With that, Iolaus turned and continued towards the forest. "Now, come on, the fish won't catch themselves and your mother is expecting us to bring home dinner."

Hercules opened his mouth to call after him, then closed it. What could he say to all that? Iolaus was right, he did make his own decisions...and, gods knew, his impetuous buddy would find a way of getting into trouble whether or not he was with Hercules. It just wasn't in his nature to live a quiet, peaceful life. Maybe, if they stuck together, Herc could also be looking out for him.

And, besides, there was nothing he wanted more than to have Iolaus beside him, or watching his back. Being around Iolaus was also the best fun he ever had...and he didn't want to give that up, either. Finally, Hercules just shook his head and smiled, calling out, "Okay, buddy...you win. How do you feel about heading north?"

Iolaus turned back with a grin. "Well, I don't have a better idea. When do we leave?"

"Let's give Mother a little time, at least, to get used to the idea that we're going. How about the day after tomorrow?"

"Sounds good, Herc...and, you'll see...it'll be fun!" Iolaus responded, his eyes alight, his smile as bright as the sun.

* * *

When they headed out after giving her warm hugs, and with the smiles of confident youth on their faces, Herc in his new clothes, Iolaus with the sword at his hip, Alcmene had smiled back, hiding the ache she felt at their leaving. Oh, she'd known they wouldn't stay, that they had their own lives to live, but she couldn't help being sorry to see them leave...or being afraid for them. She knew them both better than they yet knew themselves, and knowing them, she understood they would face danger wherever they went. It was in their nature to help others, and they were fearless...even reckless in standing up to threats others, more sensible than they were, would walk away from. Still, it was who they were, and she was proud of them. She wouldn't want to change them, but she couldn't help worrying about them, either.

As they disappeared from view, she held the memory of an older Iolaus in her heart, one she had met long years ago when he'd saved her, and her unborn son, from the wrath of a murderous goddess. Both of her brave boys had been alive and well in that future from which Iolaus had come, and that future was still long years ahead. That memory had gotten her through a lot, and she suspected it would stand her in good stead when they went up against impossible odds in the years to come.

* * *

Hercules and Iolaus ambled their way further north than either of them had ever been before. They paused a moment in thoughtful respect at the grave mound of the three hundred Spartans who had died so bravely at Thermopylae. Then, they continued on, to the far northern edges of the plains of Lamia, and beyond there to Meteora. They didn't encounter much trouble on the way, just the odd band of roadside bandits who, to their profound regret, underestimated the two lone travellers. Some of the jails in the villages along the way had gotten quite crowded, and their confidence in their abilities to work well as a team grew as a result of these experiences.

As they stood at the base of the weird stone spires at Meteora, Iolaus shivered a little. When Herc cocked a questioning eye at him, he just shrugged, a little embarrassed, as he explained, "They give me a funny feeling, like someone's walking over my grave." When Herc frowned at that, he hastened to lighten the moment, "Or, maybe it's just that summer's over, it's getting colder and they look enough like mountains to remind me of the Snow Bear's cave...and you know me well enough to know I'm not fond either of the cold or of mountains, let alone both at the same time. What do you say we turn back south?"

Hercules laughed, remembering how colourfully Iolaus could curse the cold and the snow. "Alright, buddy," he said, putting an arm around Iolaus' shoulders and turning him to face south, "whatever makes you happy."

They were about a day from the edge of the Lamian Plains when they encountered the 'adventure' Iolaus had been so eagerly looking forward to finding.

* * *

"Gods! Help me! Please, someone....HELP ME!" The desperate cry shattered the quiet autumn day, carrying with the clarity of a bell on the clear air.

They cast each other a quick look of alarm, then turned to race through the trees along the edge of the dirt road, to the fields on the other side. Herc grabbed up a sturdy broken limb on the way by, and Iolaus pulled his sword from its scabbard. Once they'd cleared the trees, it took only a moment to take in the scene before them. A farmer was trying to fend off about a dozen ugly not-quite-human guys who vastly outnumbered him, and looked downright mean. The poor guy had his back to a wagon half-filled with the grain he'd been harvesting, and he was holding them off with what looked like a pretty flimsy pitchfork.

Recognizing the urgency of the situation, they didn't hesitate for a second. With a war cry, Iolaus launched himself at one of the goons, leaping onto his back and elbowing him sharply at the base of what could be said to be his neck, while Herc swung his miniature tree with good effect, slamming hard into one guy, then another...when the weirdest thing happened. The sorely injured goons disappeared! By that time, the blond warrior was exchanging sword thrusts with two more, the sound clagging across the meadowland, as Herc grabbed one of the creatures and swung it around to knock others back and away from the farmer. When Iolaus stabbed forward, the goon that should have been severely wounded just plain disappeared!

The farmer rallied, and jabbed a couple that had turned to face his rescuers, driving off two more in their own peculiar way. Frowning as he fought, Iolaus shouted to Herc, "What in Tarturus are these guys?"

"Tarturus is right!" his buddy returned grimly, as he let the goon in his grip loose, to sail hard into the trees and, you guessed it, disappear. Getting the hang of it, Iolaus dispatched another three in short order, and before long, the only guys left standing were the farmer, and the two young heroes. Herc tossed the branch away as Iolaus sheathed his sword, and then they both turned to the farmer, who was babbling in his gratitude.

"Thank the gods!" he stammered, still shaking as he leaned on his pitchfork, "I was certain they would kill me!"

Herc grinned a little at the 'thank the gods' bit, but didn't correct the guy. He moved forward to place a reassuring hand on the farmer's shoulder, as he asked, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, young man," the grateful farmer replied with a smile for both of them, "thanks to the two of you. Come on up to the house and I'll give you something to eat and drink...it's the least I can do. You just saved my life!"

He was euphoric in his relief, and neither of the young men could really blame him...those goons had been scary, and very weird. Iolaus thought the sound of food and drink sounded good, too. Always did, in his opinion.

Herc smiled warmly as he accepted for them both. "Thank you...we'd appreciate that. What was that all about anyway?"

Shivering in memory, the farmer explained as he turned to lead the way back over the low hill on the far side of the fields toward his small, but wellmade and well maintained cottage. There was a shed out behind it, and a couple of goats, and a horse, tethered in the yard.

"They were sent by Hera," he said, with an undertone of anger. The two young men exchanged glances at those words. A monster, a warlord...fine. But, Hera they didn't need.

"Why?" Iolaus asked, wondering how much trouble they'd gotten themselves into.

He sighed. "The Queen of the Gods has decided that everyone hereabouts must worship her, and her alone. There's a town not too far away, and they've built this massive temple to her, where they conduct sacrifices on a weekly basis. But, that's not enough to satisfy her. Oh no, she wants all of us bowing down to her. Well...I can't. I work the land, and I owe my allegiance and devotion to Demeter. Gods, goddesses... couldn't they come to some arrangement to leave us alone? You know, share our worship amongst themselves, not be greedy, wanting it all? Anyway, those were her goons, sent to make an example of me to the other farmers in the area."

Iolaus glanced over at Herc and saw his friend's jaw had tightened in anger. 'Well, that's it,' he thought.

Herc might not seek out trouble, but he'd never walk away from it...and he'd never let any god or goddess get away with intimidating and trying to kill innocent people. Not if he could help it. Gazing at Herc's back as they climbed over the hill, Iolaus reflected that his friend didn't hate, it just wasn't in him. But, Hera had hated Hercules since before he was even born. She'd sent snakes to murder him when he was still a baby in his cradle, but his strength had been phenomenal even then, and he'd killed the serpents. Over the years, they'd had little to do with Hera directly, other than the time she'd sent Medea to cause trouble between Hercules and Jason. Iolaus figured the 'no killing of other gods' rule he'd heard Zeus had imposed had probably been a result of the snakes. But, that didn't necessarily mean she'd given up.

Looking up at the clear sky, half expecting a thunderbolt to appear at any moment, Iolaus thought, 'Well, this is bound to get interesting before it's over.'

"Maybe we should hang around for a couple of days, in case she sends her goon squad back for more trouble. We can show her it's not worth her time to bother you," Herc said quietly to the farmer, but there was steel in his voice.

The man stopped at that, and turned to face them, surprise written over his face. "Oh...no. I couldn't ask you to risk yourselves again like that, for a stranger. No...but, you're good to offer."

He was a brave man to reject the help he badly needed to protect men he didn't know, and that was all it took to win Iolaus over. Besides, he had signed up for whatever came at them...and that included Hera. "It's no trouble," the blond assured him. "It's not like we're in a hurry to get someplace else. By the way, we haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Iolaus. And, this is Hercules."

Surprise gave way to a kind of stunned disbelief on the farmer's face. Iolaus shook his head ruefully as he hid his grin, thinking, 'Herc's legend hasn't hardly even started to grow yet, but most folks already seem to have heard of my best friend.'

"Hercules?" the guy finally stammered, his mouth a little agape.

"Yeah," Herc confirmed, holding out his arm to shake the farmer's, smiling a little in embarrassment at the man's reaction to his identity. Iolaus put a hand over his mouth to cover the smirk of amusement he'd been unable to suppress. He wondered if Hercules would ever get used to the awe he inspired in others, but he suspected Herc's terminal humility would forever make him uncomfortable whenever folks made a fuss of him. Iolaus thought his buddy's discomfiture was hilarious. Herc caught the teasing glint in his friend's eyes, and had to look away before he laughed, too, knowing that would only confuse and disconcert the farmer even more.

"Ah...yes, well, I'm glad to meet you," said the farmer, getting his amazement under control. "I'm Locacius."

"Good to meet you, Locacius...now, did you say something about food?" Iolaus intervened, getting them back on track. There was a meal to be had over in that cabin, and he intended to have it.

They continued on up to the house, and once inside, the farmer laid out reasonably fresh bread and cheese, pickles, boiled eggs and poured three mugs of a rich dark ale he had brewed himself. A veritable feast! They hadn't eaten since breakfast hours before, so Iolaus set in with unbridled enthusiasm, eliciting a smile from their host. Herc questioned him some more about the trouble Hera had been causing, and they gradually learned about her reign of terror and the impact she'd had for almost the whole of the last year on the people who lived in the area.

It seemed there were few left who had the temerity to stand up against her...or even to just quietly go about worshipping who they chose, as had Locacius. She'd promised the usual riches and long life to those who followed her but, in return, she demanded they not only make sacrifices but set up what sounded like a travesty of festival games every week to choose the latest victims.

"Victims?" Iolaus mumbled, through a mouth stuffed with bread.

The farmer nodded, disgusted. "Yes, the victims for the weekly sacrifice," he explained more clearly.

"She demands human sacrifices?" Iolaus squeaked. Gods, he'd assumed the man had meant flowers or fruit...not fresh blood, unless it was the blood of some poor innocent bull or lamb...but, it hadn't even occurred to him the man had meant the sacrifice of living human beings. Gods, and not just two or three times a year, but every week!

It was enough to kill his appetite, as he sat back and pushed his plate away, sickened by the thought of what had been going on...of what Hera demanded from her followers.

Looking across the table at Hercules, he could read the same horror he felt in his buddy's eyes. But, the horror in Herc's eyes quickly gave way to angry determination and Iolaus nodded in understanding and agreement.

Live sacrifices every week for almost a year. Herc was right. This had to be stopped.

Of course, there was the small problem of 'how'.

They'd just voiced that conviction, the question of 'how' remaining unaddressed, when they heard a ruckus outside. The cadence of marching feet, and the whinnies of horses...the clash of metal on metal. Someone had come visiting, getting dressed up in their best armour by the sounds of it, and had just come to attention, clashing their spears against their shields, outside the door of the cottage.

And, to make sure their arrival hadn't gone unnoticed, someone called out, "Locacius, come out!"

Iolaus sighed and looked at Hercules, figuring the 'how' was about to begin to make itself clear. Hercules scanned the small one room cottage and noticed the details his buddy had already taken in. One door...and no windows big enough to get out the back. Not that they wanted to run. They just liked to meet new folks on their own terms.

Locacius had paled visibly, and Herc laid a hand on his shoulder for a moment before he stood and moved to the door. "Stay here," he said quietly to the farmer. "Let us see what this is about."

Herc had to hunch a little and dip his head to go out the door, and Iolaus followed silently along behind him. Outside, there were maybe twenty foot soldiers with a captain sitting proudly on his horse...must be the guy who called out.

"Can we help you?" Herc asked mildly, as he stepped to one side of the door and his best friend took up a position about three feet to his right.

The captain gazed at them thoughtfully for a moment, then smiled smugly. "Yes, I believe you can. We're looking for two men who engaged in a criminal act in the fields over there not long ago. Perhaps you've seen them?"

Herc looked at Iolaus who shrugged, choosing to remain silent, but trying his innocent look on for size. "Nope," Hercules replied, "we haven't seen any criminals hereabouts and we've been here for an hour or so. What did they do?"

His jaw tightening, the captain outlined the gist of the charges, "Two strangers assaulted heralds of the Great Goddess Hera, threatening bodily harm and driving them off, preventing them from fulfilling their duties."

"Really?" Herc replied ironically, his brows up, shaking his head. "You just never know who'll wander by, do you?"

Wearying of the game, the captain called his soldiers to order, and the next thing the two young warriors knew, there were twenty spears levelled at them...without a whole lot of room to maneuver. Hercules raised his hands to indicate they meant no trouble, at least, not immediately, and the captain nodded in acknowledgement. "Hera told our Lord the names of the men who are guilty, and he has sent me to bring them to justice. The men I seek are called Hercules and Iolaus, one was said to be very tall, and the other short...I take it, that's the two of you."

The captain gazed at them sardonically as he waited for their response. He'd heard stories about Zeus' half mortal son, but he hadn't been impressed by what he had assumed to be exaggerated tales. These guys were obviously just kids, out for a good time. The officer had no concerns about their capacity to resist arrest. The tall one couldn't be much more than seventeen or eighteen, and the little guy looked even younger.

Iolaus stiffened at the 'short' description, and the disparaging look from the captain, but Herc just glanced over at him and shook his head. This wasn't the time or place to start a fight. A disgusted expression on his face, Iolaus forced himself to relax.

"That would be us, all right. Lead on." Herc acquiesced with a slow nod and sigh of resignation, but he wasn't really worried. When you had his strength, a little thing like a brief detention wasn't a big deal. Besides, he wanted to learn more about what had been going on in the area. What better way than go to town, as guests of the local constabulary, to meet the 'Lord' and find out what they could do to defy Hera's will. Iolaus just rolled his eyes, pretty much understanding his buddy's unspoken reasoning, but not thrilled with it. Nevertheless, he went along quietly.

The captain wheeled his horse as the soldiers ranged themselves beside their two prisoners, and off they marched, or rather the soldiers 'marched' and the two friends 'walked' with an air of being off to see the sights, to Amphitrya. No, Hercules wasn't worried, but Iolaus suspected they were about to be locked up, and he'd never cared for being held in small, dark, usually dank, places he had trouble getting out of.

'And,' Iolaus thought, 'there's the small matter of human sacrifices to consider.' He figured he could guess who would be on the program this week, and the thought brought no comfort. Glancing up at his friend, he pushed his misgivings aside. He was with Hercules, so how much trouble could they really get into anyway? Herc'd trash the jail and they'd be outta there. Piece of cake.

* * *

Watching the events unfold from her throne on Mount Olympus, Hera smiled with a cold satisfaction. She had been furious with Zeus' order to leave that whore, Alcmene, alone and wrathful when her husband had instituted the 'no kill' rule to protect the life of his wretched son. But, she'd schooled herself to patience, watching and waiting for the opportunity she knew would come one day. And her patience had been richly rewarded...the rash and overconfident young fool had moved against her, and now she had the right to retaliate. So long as she didn't kill him personally, she could take whatever revenge she wanted.

And Zeus be damned.

* * *

'No matter what they call us, however they attack, no matter where they take us, we'll find our own way back...'

Not quite an hour later, they came to the outskirts of the town. Iolaus muttered under his breath, "Pretentious, doncha think, that such a little, unlikely place should have a 'Lord'?"

Herc just shook his head. In his short life, he had already discovered there's always someone who craves a title to say he's more important than the next guy. They were hustled down winding streets, past silent clusters of people who turned aside when they passed by. The whole place looked drab, beaten down... lifeless. But, then, Hera had never been known to bring joy to anyone's life.

Not long after, they were brought to a halt in the square in front of the largest of the town's edifices, a two story affair, painted garishly in what Iolaus thought were sickly shades of green, blue and yellow. The new Temple to Hera, he presumed.

Catching the pained look on his buddy's face, Herc leaned over and said in the reverent tone of one appreciating the latest of modern art and architecture, "Trying for the peacock effect, no doubt." Iolaus rolled his eyes and snickered.

A tall, imposing guy in long robes of the same insipid colours emerged, and they figured this was the high priest...the 'Lord' they'd been told had sent for them.

The captain dismounted and with a bow, he gestured toward them. "As you bid, my Lord High Priest, here are the strangers, Hercules and Iolaus. They admit to no crime."

"Do they not?" the priest replied drily. "Well, no matter. The Goddess has revealed her truth to me. Do you have anything to say for yourselves?" he asked the young warriors.

"Depends," Hercules replied coolly, crossing his arms, "on what you have in mind."

"You have brought this trouble on yourselves by daring to defy the will of the Goddess. The two of you have offended Hera, and reparations must be made. However, we are not unreasonable people. You will be given the opportunity to win your freedom by battle. Should you fail, you will be sacrificed to her glory six days from today."

Iolaus' eyebrows shot up at that, and he grinned. He'd been pretty sure they'd be fingered for the sacrifice, but it was nice to know they'd be given a fighting chance. To say he had every confidence in Herc's strength, and their shared ability as warriors to take on any and all comers, would have been an understatement. This really was beginning to look like a cakewalk.

He'd forgotten that it was Hera, and not this wannabe 'Lord', that they were up against.

Big mistake.

They were about to be introduced to her devious, twisted and very, very deadly strategies to get what she wanted, what she had always wanted...the destruction of Hercules.

Hercules looked over at his buddy, one brow raised under his long, straight bangs. He was pretending to be calm, but Iolaus could see the anger sparking and knew his friend had about had it with this charade. "What do you think, Iolaus?" Herc asked quietly.

"Doesn't sound like a lot of fun," Iolaus replied with a shrug, and a covert glance at the soldiers around him, as he plotted the moves to take them out. "It's unfortunate that Hera feels offended, but I'm not all that sorry about it," he continued off-handedly, shifting his stance a little in readiness for Herc's signal.

"My thoughts exactly," the demigod said, then turned to the high priest. "*Our view of this morning's events are that my friend and I stopped Hera's goons from murdering an innocent, unarmed farmer for having exercised his right to worship as he pleases."

"You admit it then!" the 'Lord' crowed, with a decided note of glee. Iolaus gave him a sardonic look, wondering if his conscience bothered him if he got the wrong guys...it had to be tricky being sure that you're sacrificing the right people, after all. Shaking his head, Iolaus knew it wasn't a responsibility he'd ever want, that was for damned sure. The guy had to be a real psycho.

"Yeah, we admit it," Iolaus interjected dryly, heartily weary of the whole sordid thing. It was time to go. With a tone of disgust, he continued, "Hera doesn't deserve your worship...and she sure as Tarturus doesn't have the right to murder innocent people. She'll bleed you all dry...and give you nothing in return."

He looked away from the High Priest's gasp of outrage at his comments, and glanced at Herc, catching his nod, and then they were both in motion. While Herc grabbed two soldiers and banged their heads together, Iolaus spun, kicking out, taking down two more. Swivelling in a tight circle, his arm striking out with the power of sledgehammer, Hercules knocked three out cold just as Iolaus dropped to the ground, rolling to knock over two others, before coming to his feet, sword in hand, to clip them briskly with the hilt, rendering them unconscious.

The 'Lord' was screaming in fury, while the captain was shouting orders, trying to bring his forces into some order. His horse stamped and whinnied loudly in the confusion. Herc picked up another hapless soldier, to swing him in a wide circle to clear the area, knocking he didn't know how many others flying into walls, while Iolaus put his sword to good use, fending off three more, getting in a few good cuts and jabs.

The soldiers never had a chance, really, and in moments the young warriors had triumphed over their erstwhile captors. The High Priest was shaking in rage, as he levelled a finger at them, "You are guilty of heresy and sacrilege. Hera will see to your punishment."

"I have no doubt she'll try," Herc said, his voice thick with contempt as he turned away from the priest to look around at the crowd which had gathered and stood silently watching as they had taken out the soldiers.

"What's wrong with you people?" Hercules demanded, exasperated. "Can't you see what's going on here has to be stopped? How can you stand by and let innocent people be killed?" he shouted, his voice brittle with anger and a kind of despair that people could be so blind, so willing to tolerate evil in their midst.

But, they just shifted their eyes away, refusing to meet his challenging glare.

Herc wanted to help them, and Iolaus could see him hesitate, wondering what he could do to make them see the truth about the horror they had agreed to worship...the horror they stood by and allowed every week when some poor innocent was sacrificed to Hera's 'glory'. It made them both sick. But, what could they do?

Hercules looked at Iolaus, shaking his head, hoping his buddy would have a suggestion, but Iolaus was fresh out. Not burdened with the shame and guilt Herc felt because of his divine blood, Iolaus didn't feel the same need to save everyone they ever met. If they could, fine. But, if people didn't want to save themselves, there wasn't a whole lot they could do for them. The blond warrior cocked his head toward the edge of town, to indicate they should just leave, and Hercules sighed, nodding reluctantly. At least they'd shown these people it was possible to fight back. And, they could put out warnings that strangers should avoid this place like the plague.

They'd just taken a few steps away from the bodies of the stunned, and many unconscious, soldiers, when a bolt of lightning blasted from the clear sky with a fury which shook the earth, the air shattered by the crack and heavy rumble of the thunder it created in its wake.

The blast of fire and unearthly power hit the ground just beside Iolaus, sending him flying helplessly through the air to crash hard into the ground, stunned by the blast. Dimly, he heard Hercules yell his name as he struggled to roll over, but the point of a sword at his throat suggested he should just lie back and rest a minute. His vision was swimming from the blast, but still he kicked out reflexively at the soldier who had recovered quickly enough to take advantage of Iolaus' momentary incapacity, only to yell when the blade sliced into the top of his shoulder as it came to rest at the side of his neck. Okay...rest was good.

Horrified, Herc shouted to the soldier to stop, as he lunged across the square toward his injured partner.

But the Priest's voice called out, halting him in his tracks. "One more step and he dies!"

Iolaus rolled his head, his vision clearing enough to see Herc come to a halt in the middle of the square. Sprawled helplessly on the ground, Iolaus swallowed, hating the part of hostage. He couldn't know that this was only the first time that Hera, more than anyone else, would make him feel like the weak link in the chain of his partnership with Hercules.

Hercules was staring at the blood seeping into the blue fabric of his friend's shirt, and at the blade at his throat. Then, he raised those blazing eyes to meet his friend's gaze, seeing the regret there, and the shame for having been captured. Herc looked away from that look of haunted failure, rejecting it. The demigod's insides were knotted with his own sense of guilt for having had led Iolaus into this mess. Just as he'd always known he would, he'd placed his friend's life in danger for the sole crime of standing beside him, fighting his fights. His lips compressed in anger, and his eyes flashed a dark warning to the soldier who held the sword at Iolaus' throat, silently promising retribution if the man hurt his partner. But, Hercules held his place. Finally, taking a breath to steady himself, to harness the tempest of emotion raging within him, he turned to face the High Priest.

"Let him go," Hercules stated flatly.

"No," the 'Lord' replied, just as flatly. "The two of you have committed crimes which must be answered. I judge you guilty of sacrilege and condemn you to fight for your freedom."

"Fine," Herc replied, his voice tight with anger, "who do we fight?"

The High Priest studied him for a long moment, then looked toward the diminuitive blond warrior lying helpless in the dirt of the square. "Hera warned me about you, Hercules," he said quietly as he studied Iolaus, "and about your inhuman strength. An ordinary battle would be an uneven contest you could be certain of winning."

They waited for it, both pretty sure he was going to order Iolaus to fight for the both of them. Well, that was fine. People always tended to underestimate Iolaus, but Herc knew his buddy could wipe the ground with these guys. The shoulder wound wasn't more than a scratch that wouldn't slow him down. There was no way any of those ill-trained soldiers would be a match for the skills they had both learned at the Academy.

Gods help the two of them, they still weren't really worried.

The priest surprised them. Turning back to Hercules, he uttered his sentence. "You will give up your strength, Hercules, to fight as a normal mortal...or your friend will die in the dust where he lies."

'I can't deny what I believe, I can't be what I'm not, I know I'll love forever, I know no matter what...'

"What?" Iolaus cried, appalled, "NO! Herc...you can't...."

His eyes wide with shock, Hercules gasped as he took a half step back, the threat a lance which tore through his heart. Gods, they'd kill Iolaus...just like that. He whirled to face his partner, seeing that another soldier had revived and was holding a spear over his best friend's heart. There was no way his buddy could save himself, but Herc could see in his eyes that he was about to try. Terrified, Hercules raised a hand, shouting, "Iolaus, NO! Don't make them...."

Iolaus was breathing hard, hating this, hating all of it. Herc was going to do it, going to give up, for him, to save his worthless life. "Herc...you can't surrender to Hera. Not for me! Not for anything. Please, Hercules...don't do this!" Iolaus begged him, with voice and eyes, his message only too clear... 'I'm not worth it.'

But, he was worth it. In that stark moment, Hercules knew Iolaus' life was worth any cost. What use was his physical strength if he lost the one who had always inspired him, who had always believed in him, letting him believe in himself? Without his strength, he could still fight with Iolaus by his side...but, he couldn't conceive of carrying on alone, without Iolaus' sure and steadfast assurance that Hercules was doing the right thing. And, if Iolaus was killed today, because of him...no. No. He couldn't allow that. Wouldn't allow that. No matter what the cost to himself.

Iolaus could see it in his eyes. The defeat. His own life, Hercules would have squandered without second thought rather than surrender to that bitch. But, he wouldn't risk his friend's life. Iolaus closed his eyes tight, and turned his head away, choking back the sob of frustration which had risen to his throat. He couldn't let Hercules do this...he had to stop it, whatever the cost. In a flash, one arm came up to knock the spear away as Iolaus rolled from the blade at his throat, in a flurry of motion taking them all by surprise. He was scrambling to his feet, kicking out at the guy with the spear when he felt the sword slash deeply into the back of his arm as he twisted away, causing him to stumble to his knees.

Terrified, Hercules was screaming, "NO! STOP! If you kill him, I swear I'll tear you apart! DAMMIT! All right, I AGREE! I'll fight as a mortal. IOLAUS...STOP! Please...."

There was such entreaty in the demigod's voice, so much fear for his friend's life. On his knees, holding the damaged arm, Iolaus looked up at him, unshed tears glittering in the blond warrior's eyes. He'd never wanted to cost Hercules this. Gods, he could fight anything but the naked plea for understanding, and the love, in those eyes. Unable to hold Herc's anguished look, his own heart breaking for the price Hercules was willing to pay for him, Iolaus' head dropped. Defeated.

There was a sudden flash of light in the silent square, a flare of hot power, and Iolaus heard Herc groan in terrible pain. He jerked his eyes back to his friend and, horrified, he saw Hercules collapse in the dust of the damned square.

"Herc!" he gasped, scrambling to his feet to rush to his buddy's side. Stumbling to his knees beside the demigod, Iolaus pulled his friend into his arms. Hercules was barely conscious, pale and shaken with what Hera had just done to him, ripping part of his essential nature from his being.

"Damn you, Hera," Iolaus cursed through his tears. Looking up and around at the gathered townspeople, he cried, "Damn you all for fools. If you don't fight her, she'll destroy you all, can't you see that!"

But, they were terrified, as well they might be, he thought with frustrated and angry understanding. Only heroes stood against the likes of her...or maybe he and Herc were the fools.

Iolaus might have damned them with his words, but in his heart, it was himself he cursed for having brought Hercules to this terrible fate.

Herc grabbed weakly for his friend's arm as he struggled back to consciousness, fighting the pain of what had been done to him. "Take it easy, buddy," Iolaus whispered, devastated by what he had just cost him.

A shadow fell across them, and Iolaus looked up to seeing the gloating face of the High Priest staring down at them, glad to see them humbled in the dust. "You'll pay for this," the blond warrior snarled.

Ignoring what he felt to be an empty threat, the priest just shook his head and smiled, well satisfied by this demonstration of Hera's power. Glancing at the captain who had regained his own grip on consciousness, he merely said, "Whip them, then throw them into the prison. No food, no water."

Rough hands grabbed at them, pulling Iolaus away from Hercules, dragging them toward posts they hadn't noticed on the far side of the Temple. Iolaus struggled, and cursed, shouting at them, kicking out...but he hadn't recovered from the blast of lightning, the shock of what had happened, and the steady loss of blood from his wounded arm was weakening him further. There were too many of them. Hercules also struggled ineffectually in his semi-conscious state, and Iolaus raged to see his friend helpless in their grip.

Because of him.

Their hands were tied with leather thongs to hooks high on the posts. A soldier whipped them until the linen of Herc's shirt, and the cotten of Iolaus', were nothing more than bloodsoaked rags, lashed them until the skin on their backs was shredded, until cries of protest and pain were finally wrenched from both of the young heroes...and until they had both gratefully passed out, having been driven beyond the limits of mortal endurance.

* * *

If only tears were laughter, if only night was day, if only prayers were answered, then we would hear God say, 'No matter what they tell you, no matter what they do, no matter what they teach you, what you believe is true...''

They laid unconscious in the fetid cell for hours, as day eased into twilight, until the burning pain broached the blessed darkness, returning them to the reality of their capture and imprisonment. Iolaus was lying on his left side, on the wounded arm, and the weight of his body had stopped the bleeding. He heard a low moan and opened his eyes to see Herc sprawled on his stomach beside him. Even in the dim evening twilight, Iolaus could see the ruin of his friend's back and had to choke back the bile in his throat. Gods, Iolaus hated to see Hercules so hurt...worse than he had ever been hurt before at the hands of either mortal or god.

Biting back his own groan, Iolaus managed to mutter through a dry throat, "How're you doing?"

Hercules sighed heavily, and lifted his head to turn it toward Iolaus, laying it back down on the filthy straw as he gazed at his partner ruefully, "About as well as you, I imagine." His voice was thick and a little slurred with pain.

While that was in one sense true, in that they had suffered similar injuries, Hercules was feeling a whole lot worse than Iolaus. His diminuitive friend had suffered beatings, very bad ones, too many times to count, and had learned what to expect from pain and how to deal with it. He knew the weakness caused by the violation of physical abuse was as much shock as injury and would pass, just as the actual wounds would heal. So, Iolaus was fairly stoic about abuse and pain. He'd gotten used to them both a long time ago.

But, Hercules had never suffered such abuse...and he had never felt such pain. The weakness that pervaded his being terrified him, and he had no way of knowing if this was because his strength had been torn away or if it was a normal outcome of having been whipped unmercifully. He had always, instinctively, defended those weaker and more vulnerable than himself, but this experience was giving him a whole new respect for those who survived abuse...most especially for the man curled a couple of feet away. Hercules found it all overwhelming...and he was scared. Not that he would ever admit it, but it took great effort to keep the panic in his chest from getting away from him. If Iolaus could handle it, had handled it even as a child, he sure as Tarturus wasn't going to start wailing in despair. He bit his lip against the pain, and the terror the weakness aroused in him, and endured just as his best friend always had...without complaint.

But, Iolaus saw the deep lines of pain in Herc's too pale face, heard the sharp, shallow breathing of deep anxiety and could have wept in understanding and empathy. He had never wanted Herc to ever know what abuse like this felt like, physically or emotionally. But, he didn't say anything about it, knowing Herc had his pride and was exhibiting real courage in mastering the horror of it all. Herc didn't want his buddy to know he was scared, so Iolaus would go along with the pitiful, and heartwrenching, deception. The pathos of it all brought new tears to his own eyes, tears of sorrow for innocence lost and grief that he had been the reason for this harsh lesson about the frailty of mortals.

"I'm sorry," Iolaus whispered, heartily wishing at that moment that he'd never been born. Without him, Herc would have been able to walk away from this damned town, not lying whipped and hurting in this abysmal cell. Gods, without him and his insatiable thirst for 'adventure', Hercules might never have even been near the town in the first place.

Hercules frowned at the apology, his eyes closing for a moment before they opened again to blaze into Iolaus'. "Not your fault," he murmured quietly.

"Well, it sure as Tarturus isn't yours!" Iolaus protested, looking away, biting his lip, trying to remember when he'd last felt such a failure. 'Good for nothing,' his father had always told him...and at that moment, he finally believed that his father had been right all along.. "Gods, Hercules, how could do you do that...give up who you are?" he raged, despising himself. "You could have torn down that blasted Temple, destroyed the reason and the place to hold those wretched sacrifices...gods, Herc...you shouldn't have given in to her."

Herc had been staring at him, reading his friend's face and the anguish there...hearing the guilt under the rage. He sighed, forcing the pain and fear away as he pushed himself up to crawl over to his partner, to lay a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. He couldn't let Iolaus go on tormenting himself, telling himself he was to blame for this having happened. "Iolaus," Hercules said, gazing down at him, "Iolaus, look at me."

Reluctantly, Iolaus turned his gaze to meet Herc's eyes, and swallowed at what he saw there. Not forgiveness, because Herc didn't think there was anything to forgive. Iolaus frowned unconsciously as he tried to read his best friend's expression...regret? What did Hercules have to regret? 'It's because of me that we're in this mess,' he thought with firm conviction.

"I meant it, buddy...this wasn't your fault," Hercules stated again. "Mine, maybe, for being ready to spit in Hera's face. But, it was my decision to give in to her, not yours." Herc smiled a little wanly. "What else could I do? I wasn't about to just stand there and let them kill you," he said, his voice cracking with the memory of how close it had been.

"Well, you should have," Iolaus retorted, looking away, then back, his eyes glittering in the dim light. "I told you my life is not your responsibility, dammit! I'm not worth the price."

"You are to me," Hercules replied quietly, then more heatedly as memories of Iolaus' desperate action in the square came back to him...memories of how Iolaus had pushed the soldiers to the brink of killing him to stop Herc from trading for his life. It had been foolish, and noble...and incredibly selfless. And Hercules never wanted him to pull a stunt like that again. "Gods, Iolaus, you were ready to get yourself killed to stop me...to stop her. I was terrified when you started to fight back! Don't you ever quit? Give up?"

"Not if I can help it," his best friend snapped sullenly, "and neither do you. I can't stand being used against you, Herc."

"I know," the demigod sighed again, looking away, wondering how to make Iolaus feel better about what he had chosen, about why he'd been forced to make the choice and would do it again. Iolaus saw him shake his head, and figured Herc had given up trying to find those words. Just as well. The words didn't exist to make him feel better about how his life had been held over Herc's head.

But, as Iolaus really looked at Hercules, at the haunted look on his friend's face, he realized it had been an impossible situation. Herc had only just turned eighteen...if he'd chosen differently, he might never have been able to live with the memory, or with the guilt he would have felt. His buddy had chosen him out of love, out of the friendship they'd shared since they'd been kids, out of the partnership they had forged on their quest to find the Snow Bear. Sighing, he let his anger go. He wasn't angry with Herc anyway, and he knew it. He was angry with himself, his own helplessness and inability to stop what had happened.

They'd never come up against this kind of evil before. Ares was aggressive and tempermental, Bacchus was downright weird and Discord and Sprite were malicious but essentially stupid. Hera was definitely in another league altogether. They hadn't been prepared for her, for what she could throw at them. None of this was Herc's fault, no more than he had been responsible for being born in the first place.

"It's okay, Herc," he finally muttered, dispiritedly. It was done. They had to go on from here. Forgetting his wounded arm, Iolaus pushed to lever himself up to a sitting position, only to moan in surprise at the stab of pain.

Concerned, Herc moved to support his shoulders and helped him sit up. "Take it easy, Iolaus...let me see that arm."

Grudgingly, irritated by this further evidence of his defeat earlier that day, Iolaus twisted around for inspection, verbally shrugging it off. "It's fine, Herc...just a flesh wound. It's not even bleeding anymore."

"Hmm," Hercules murmured examining the deep slash. Iolaus heard the rip of material, and looked down to see Herc wrapping a ragged bandage, torn from what was left of his shirt, around the wound. "You're right, it's stopped bleeding. But, it's pretty deep, Iolaus...and this place is none too clean."

"Thanks," the blond warrior mumbled, unhappy about the fact that the chance of infection for both of them was high in that pigsty. "Let me see your back," Iolaus said, when Herc was done bandaging his arm. Obligingly, biting his lip against the protest of his back against any movement, the demigod moved around.

Gods, it was a mess. Iolaus glanced around the cell and heaved a sigh of relief when he spotted his pack in a corner where the soldiers had tossed it when they'd thrown the unconscious heroes into the cell. He crawled over to it, and dragged it back, finding the effort of lifting it was too much at that point. Rummaging around inside, Iolaus found the pouches of herbs he kept for emergencies, a small jar of honey and a little vial of olive oil for cooking venison the way Herc liked it.

"This might sting a little," he said quietly to his friend, as he first dabbed honey into the worst wounds. Honey was a great natural healing agent and would help fight any infection. Then he smoothed the oil over the still weeping wounds, frowning in sympathy when Hercules hissed in pain, and finally, he patted herbs over the worst of the cuts. Taking some clean rags from the pack, he tore them into strips to lay over the wounds on his buddy's back. "It's not much, but hopefully, that'll help a little. Your capacity to heal is separate from your strength...maybe she forgot to take that, too." Iolaus sure hoped so...they couldn't afford for both of them to be too badly laid up. There was a battle coming.

"Thanks," Hercules said, then twisted back around, holding out his hands for the supplies. "Your turn."

By the time Hercules was finished working on his buddy's back, Iolaus' stomach was rumbling and he gazed hungrily at the bottle of honey, but he decided that eating it probably wasn't a good idea. They might need it again.

When Iolaus turned back around, he saw Hercules staring off at the far wall, the haunted look of despair back on his face. "What is it, Herc?" Iolaus asked, worried, looking him over, wondering if maybe the soldiers had kicked him when he was out, and he was hurting from more than the wounds on his back.

Herc looked down at the clasped hands resting on his crossed legs, as he replied quietly, "I meant it, Iolaus. This wasn't your fault. It's because of me...because Hera hates me and I'm beginning to hate her." Hercules sighed and looked up at his friend, a frown between his brows. "I get you into the worst messes...maybe if I knew when to walk away...maybe some of what he said is true. Gods, I was proud, feeling righteous, when I bragged to that arrogant priest about driving off Hera's goons, lecturing him about people's right to worship in their own way. And, I wasn't just saying it to him, I was saying it so that she could hear me, so she would know I wouldn't put up with it. Gods, talk about arrogance! I bring these problems on myself by being too stubborn to back down."

"Herc, that is such a load of dung!" Iolaus replied, unable to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "How can you SAY that? Hera is the queen bitch of all time and if you won't stand up to her, who will? No matter what they say, they're wrong...you're right to fight her, to fight her cruelty and the misery she brings. Gods, Herc, you're an inspiration...I'm proud of you for having the courage to push back. Don't ever believe the jerks who tell you different."

Hercules swallowed at that, then looked around the cell, a short nod the only acknowledgement he gave that he'd heard his friend's words. But, he had heard them...and was touched by the conviction and pride Iolaus felt for him, still, without hesitation, even though he had brought them to this sorry state.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked gazing at the locked door, and Iolaus knew what he meant. Without Herc's strength, getting out of this situation alive was no longer a sure thing. But, this was no time for a crisis of confidence.

"We fight back, what else?" Iolaus asked with a grin. "Hey, we've had the best training in the world at the Academy. These bozos don't stand a chance against us...you know that."

Hercules glanced back at Iolaus and caught the grin, answering it with one of his own until it faded. "It's just feels so different...I'm not sure I know how to fight this way, without the strength. I always took it so much for granted." It was as close as he could come to admit the fear that he felt about the strange new weakness of his body.

"Didn't we all?" his friend remarked wryly, with just a tinge of bitterness. However, he knew wallowing in his own guilt wasn't going to do Hercules any good, either. Iolaus had to help his friend regain confidence in himself. Giving Herc an appraising look, Iolaus reflected, "You're still a bigger man than any one I've seen here yet, so even as a mortal, you'll have more strength than most. The trick will be in learning how to gauge your new limits. We'll get to work on that tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Herc queried, worried, wanting to learn now.

"Yeah," Iolaus winced as he moved to lie back down on his side. "Much as I'd like to help tonight, my back needs a little time...and so does yours. Rest is the best thing right now. It's a week before the next sacrifices are due, so we've got plenty of time."

Hercules swallowed at the reminder of what they faced if they lost this round. Iolaus knew what he was thinking as Herc gazed at him, with that shadowed look of guilt in his eyes. "Stop it," Iolaus said sharply.

"What?"

"Blaming yourself. Worrying about me. You could have taken them all, but they'd have killed me. We both know that. You bought me time. I might wish you hadn't've had to do that, but I'm grateful...more than grateful. Now, we just take one day at a time until we get the chance to fight our way out of here. Okay?" 'Damn it, this isn't Herc's fault!' he raged to himself.

"It's not your fault either, Iolaus...." Hercules replied quietly but firmly, his tone insisting that his friend hear him, and accept his words. Herc had seen the self-condemnation still haunting Iolaus' eyes.

"Yeah, yeah...let's just blame Hera and let it go," Iolaus replied, closing his eyes against those that saw too much. "Go to sleep, Herc...."

After a moment, Iolaus heard his friend lie down nearby, and listened until Herc's breathing slowed. Sleep would do him good. If Iolaus was right and Hercules could still heal faster than the average mortal, then he'd be a lot better by morning.

But, regardless, Iolaus vowed they'd have to go through him before anyone would ever hurt Hercules like that again.

He had no way of knowing that Hercules had been thinking the same thing about him just before he'd drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When Iolaus woke again, light was streaming in through the narrow aperture high on the stone wall. Grunting, he pushed himself up, wondering for a moment where they were...but, at the sight of the rough bandages on Herc's back, he remembered with a cold shudder. The light let him make out their surroundings better than he'd been able to do the evening before. Real homey place. Thick bars across a small window cut in a heavy oaken door. Stone walls around a space about fifteen feet square. Several sets of rounded metal fixtures on the wall, the better to affix chains to, he gathered. Filthy straw on the earthen floor, that smelled of must, mold and urine. Straw crawling with critters that bit, he thought with a scowl as he scratched his chest. And nothing else except a pail to relieve themselves in...not so much for their convenience as to keep the mess down for the intrepid souls who would have to clean this place, such as it was, before the next tenants moved in.

Gods, he was stiff and sore. His tongue was swollen in a mouth as parched as the desert sands. And he felt warm despite the dankness of the cell. Great. Fever. Just what he needed to make this experience complete. Well, it wasn't entirely unexpected...it'd've been a miracle if they hadn't gotten at least a minor infection from the filth in here. Not exactly the best place to recover from open wounds. Ah well, he thought with a grim smile, the chill of the stone would cool him down.

He eased over to Herc to check his back, glad to see his buddy was still sleeping. Iolaus didn't want to disturb him, so he didn't touch the flimsy bandages, but what he could see made him grin in relief. Hera was such an idiot and for that he was immensely grateful. She'd left Herc his power to heal and his back looked almost as good as new. The demigod's colour was natural, so no fever, no infection. Great. They could start working out as soon as he woke up.

* * *

'And I will keep you safe and strong, and sheltered from the storm. No matter where it's barren, a dream is being born. No matter who they follow, no matter where they lead, no matter how they judge us, I'll be everyone you need...'

Iolaus studied Hercules as he slept, remembering how they'd first met. Herc had been such a gangly kid, big for his age and awkward with it. And, so gentle...never wanting to hurt anything, anyone. There'd always been a sadness in his eyes, as if he felt a little lost, or felt he just didn't belong somehow. But, Iolaus had discovered that he could always chase that sadness away, make his best friend laugh at his crazy antics. Make him happy.

Iolaus' throat tightened, and his eyes blurred, with the immensity of what he felt for Hercules. There had never been, would never be, anyone who meant more to him than Herc did. People tended to forget that the demigod was two years younger than the diminutive blond warrior, and because of Hercules' immense strength, and his semidivinity, no one would ever have imagined that Iolaus, only a relatively small mortal after all, had appointed himself Herc's protector almost from the first moment he'd laid eyes on the demigod, so many years ago.

And he still felt that way. He didn't see a man who stood a foot taller than he did, a man who had had the strength of gods knew how many men...he didn't see a son of Zeus. Iolaus saw someone who was vulnerable, who wore his heart and his innocence open for any one to see and hurt. Iolaus saw a young man who was doing his best in the difficult role the Fates had assigned him, who held an inner core of loneliness, and even shame, for his differences. Someone who actually felt a sense of personal guilt for the harm his relatives caused in the lives of mortals...and who tried to make up for that harm any way he could. And, he saw someone who was truly noble, who had courage and greatness within his soul.

'Some protector I turned out to be,' Iolaus thought, with sorrow and guilt.

Iolaus firmly believed he had cost Herc his strength. And there was no way Iolaus could ever get it back for him. Gods, he hated Hera for what she had done to Hercules, perverting his innate decency to her own ends. But, sighing, Iolaus forced himself to set all that aside. They had work to do. His job now was to make damned sure Herc was ready to face whatever the priest and the soldiers might throw at him, because Iolaus knew his buddy was the real target in this game. Iolaus vowed to himself he would do everything he could to make certain Hercules would be victorious in the battle to come, to make sure he got to walk away from this damned town.

No matter what.

Iolaus settled back to wait for his buddy to wake up.

* * *

Herc woke with a start, and took a second to get his bearings. Iolaus watched quietly as his friend came to the unwelcome realization of their current predicament, and was waiting with a grin when Herc finally looked up.

"What're you so cheerful about?" Hercules grunted, pushing himself up to a sitting position.

"You...your back. It's looks good, Herc," Iolaus replied, quite obviously pleased about that fact.

Herc's brows raised as he tried to look back over his shoulder and Iolaus snickered, knowing it's not possible to see your own back. "Trust me," he said with a warm smile.

Herc's eyes danced back to Iolaus'. "Always," he replied, as a slow grin spread across his face when he stretched with ease, with no twinge of discomfort. "All right!" he said with a decisive nod, then rose with an easy and fluid grace to his feet, moving toward his friend. "How're you doing?"

"Better," Iolaus replied, trying to wave him off. Like that was possible. Herc just shook his head and turned Iolaus around, hissing a little when he saw his buddy's back... it wasn't a pleasant sight.

Herc reached for the pack, and warned Iolaus before he started to peel off the rags that had adhered to his open wounds, "This is going to sting a little."

Sting? Iolaus bit his lip and held his breath. Yeah, it stung, all right...more than a little. Herc gently applied the honey, the oil and herbs, then laid the last of their clean rags over the sticky mess. "There's some infection," he said quietly.

"I figured as much," Iolaus replied matter-of-factly as Hercules started to work on his arm. They had left the wound on his shoulder, by his neck, open...it had been more a bad scrape than a cut.

When Herc was done, Iolaus turned back to face him and caught the worried look. "It's all right, Herc. We won't be in here all that long. I don't feel too bad...I'll be fine."

"Uh huh," was all Herc replied, as he looked around the dingy cell. He spotted the pail in the corner, and turned toward it.

"Uh, Herc," Iolaus said, wrinkling up his face. "They aren't going to give us any water...."

Herc looked back at his friend, and his own face clouded in disgust as he caught Iolaus' drift. "You've got to be kidding," he said, hoping his friend was making one of his sick jokes.

Iolaus shrugged. "Well, it's just that I've heard that miners survive cave-ins by, you know, drinking what they have. It's clean...and it's wet. If they aren't going to give us any water, we shouldn't waste what we have," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yecchhh!" Hercules replied, but turned away from the pail. Instead, he went back to the bars, gripping them, and growling with frustration as he pulled ineffectually at them. Yesterday it would have been so easy to rip them, and the door they were imbedded in, apart.

But that was yesterday.

Sometimes survival takes more than physical courage, and sometimes it's just plain disgusting. They figured out the best way to do what they had to do to conserve their bodies' fluids, and alleviated their nagging thirst. Hercules was acutely embarrassed, blushing scarlet throughout it all, until finally Iolaus collapsed in giggles at the horrible absurdity of it, allowing Herc to finally relax. But, the demigod doubted he would ever find any of this experience actually amusing.

"Okay," Iolaus said, deciding a distraction with more positive activity was called for, "time to start your workout...get you used to your new capacities."

Hercules wasn't a happy man, and Iolaus couldn't blame him...despite his feigned cheerfulness, he was far from happy himself. Herc stood scowling at him with his arms crossed, legs wide apart. "I don't see anything in here to work out with," he muttered.

Iolaus spread his arms wide, giving his partner a mocking bow, "I'll be everything you need."

Herc's eyes narrowed as his buddy walked over to him. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"You'll see," Iolaus assured him, stopping directly in front of him. "Pick me up."

"What?" he frowned.

"Pick me up...see how much different it seems with mortal rather than semidivine strength. Come on, Herc...you gotta test out what you've got," his friend encouraged.

Shaking his head, Hercules bent to lift Iolaus in his arms, being careful of his partner's back. Herc hefted his buddy without any apparent effort, though Iolaus could see from his thoughtful frown that there was a difference. "Okay, that wasn't so hard, now put me back down."

Complying, Hercules set him on the ground, and Iolaus turned around, his back to Herc. "Okay, pick me up again and throw me away toward the wall...not too hard. I don't want to splatter against it," Iolaus cautioned, well aware they had limited space to work in.

"You're sure about this?" Hercules asked, his tone clear that he thought his buddy was crazy.

"Yeah, I'm sure. C'mon, we haven't got all day!" Iolaus urged, getting ready for his own part of this acrobatic maneuver. Actually, they had several days, but moving gracefully with his stiff muscles and sore back was going to be a trial. Iolaus didn't want Herc to know how much it was going to hurt or Hercules would quit before they'd even started. Nor was Iolaus sure how long his energy would last, what with the fever and all.

Herc hoisted his partner into the air and pitched him forward. Iolaus twisted in the air and landed on his feet, taking a deep breath to hold in the gasp at the tearing of his back. Clearing his throat, he said a little hoarsely, "Good, that was good. Do you feel the difference?"

"Yeah, I do," Hercules nodded, beginning to see the worth of all this.

"Fine, now we go for some of the fancier moves. I'm going to come at you, and you're going to throw me over your shoulder. Ready?"

"Ready."

Iolaus charged, Herc grabbed him and Iolaus almost hit the ceiling on the way up and over, as he flipped in the air to land on his feet. Herc had grown a lot in the last six months, and Iolaus, too, needed to learn to compensate for the difference. Turning, he jumped on Herc's back and the demigod reached over his shoulder, with a roll forward, bringing his buddy back up and over to land on his back on the hardpacked earth with a decided 'ooompphhh!'

When Iolaus didn't bounce right back up, Herc dropped down on one knee, his hand on Iolaus' shoulder, "Gods, did I hurt you?" he asked, worried by Iolaus' sudden pallor, wincing when Iolaus wheezed in pain.

"No," Iolaus croaked. "The ground hurt me. Relax...I'll be fine," his buddy assured him, as he panted to get his breath back.

When Iolaus was ready, Herc reached down an arm to help him back up to his feet. Hercules wanted to stop at that point, but Iolaus wouldn't let him. Too much depended on Herc knowing he could do this...fight with ease and grace regardless of whether or not he was the strongest man alive.

They worked out the whole day, taking breaks when Iolaus got too dizzy or winded. They wrestled, practiced some of their own special, personal moves, and generally proved to themselves they still had what ever it was going to take.

Maybe Iolaus shouldn't have pushed so hard, should have saved some of his own strength. But, he was pretty sure he was going to get sicker before it was all over, and figured he might as well use the strength he had while he had it. But, finally, he just couldn't keep going. His back was on fire, and his arm was so sore he could hardly lift it anymore.

"Let's pack it in for today," he gasped, slumping to the floor, taking deep breaths. He'd managed to keep Hercules so busy Herc hadn't really been fully conscious of his friend's injuries for the last couple of hours. Now, in the fading light, Herc squatted down behind Iolaus, noticing his back and arm were both bleeding again.

"You should have stopped sooner," Hercules accused, again reaching for the pack. But, they were running out of supplies. Just a few herbs left. He used the rags that had been on his own back to staunch the bleeding and applied the last of the healing herbs. Iolaus didn't need to see his buddy's frown to know it was there when Herc noticed the heat rising from his buddy's body. Suddenly, now that he was no longer actively fighting the effects of the infection, no longer able to stave them off with the force of his energy, Iolaus felt deeply chilled, and couldn't help the shiver that swept over him.

"Don't worry about it," Iolaus muttered, to himself as much as to Hercules, pulling away to lie down, his back to his friend.

Sometimes Herc's silence could be louder than any words. Iolaus knew he was worried, that his friend felt helpless. If the blond warrior couldn't fight off this fever, he'd be in bad shape...worse, he wouldn't be able to fight when the time came. 'Well,' Iolaus thought, 'I'll just have to be all right.'

There wasn't any choice...well, there was. But, he was in no hurry to be the next sacrifice to Hera's 'glory'.

The guards, if there even were any, had been conspicuous by their absence all day. No food, no water, no attention of any kind. No doubt they hoped the two heroes would be pining away in fear and terror, dreading what ever was to come, growing weaker by the hour. Well, the young warriors weren't terrified, they were angry. And only one of them was growing weaker. But, Iolaus told himself he just needed to rest for a while and he'd be all right. Not that he believed a word of his own little peptalk.

Herc just stood silently, wishing there was something he could do to help his friend, as he watched his buddy for a little while longer. But, when Iolaus shivered again, he laid down beside his friend and drew Iolaus back into his arms, pulling him close, sharing his own body heat...trying to keep Iolaus warm the only way he could.

Exhausted, grateful, Iolaus closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.

* * *

Iolaus wasn't aware of much for the next couple of days. It was all a kind of hot, painfilled fog. He thought he heard Hercules shouting at one point, something about 'a living sacrifice doesn't mean much if it's already dead!'

'Trust Herc to figure out what'll motivate them to help,' he thought groggily. 'Gods, how twisted is it to keep someone alive just so that you can kill them later? Sometimes I really don't understand my fellow mortals,' he reflected as he drifted away from the brief moment of lucidity back into unconsciousness.

Furious, frightened, Hercules kicked at the door, and yelled again for the guards. Iolaus' fever had worsened during the night to the point where he'd been rambling in a state of almost frenzied semi-consciousness, going on and on about how all of this was his fault, and how sorry he was...how he'd give anything to undo it all. Hercules had tried to sooth him, but nothing the demigod said seemed to get through. Herc held onto his friend, trying just by his touch to let Iolaus know it was all right...to make him feel safe.

At one point in the deep of the night, when Iolaus had cried in his anguish, Herc thought his own heart might break. Iolaus never cried in front of anyone, ever. Not if he could help it anyway, Herc reflected as he remembered the unshed tears of grief and frustration in Iolaus' eyes when he realized Herc was going to capitulate to Hera for his sake. Hercules thought again about how Iolaus had been willing to die to save him from having to make that choice...and how his buddy had worked with him tirelessly, without complaint all the day before, to make sure Hercules was ready for the battle to come. Off and on through the day of constant training, Herc had wondered why Iolaus had seemed so intent on doing it all that day...now he knew. Iolaus had known he was getting sick, but he had used up his own strength and energy anyway, for his friend's sake. Now, all Hercules could do was hold his buddy close and pretend to not notice the tears, in case Iolaus somehow remembered this moment and felt ashamed for having lost control.

Hold Iolaus, and wonder what he'd ever done to deserve such selfless devotion, such unconditional love as Iolaus so willingly gave to him...and seemed to truly believe he deserved. But, Herc thought as he gazed down upon the flushed and fevered face of his friend, and brushed back the curls damp with unhealthy sweat, no one ever deserves that kind of love...it's a gift, pure and simple. For some reason he'd never really understand, but would always be awed by, Iolaus had chosen to gift Hercules will all that he was. From that moment on, Hercules treasured that gift, the man, the friendship, the love and support Iolaus gave as naturally as he breathed, as the priceless treasure it was.

Priceless...and irreplaceable.

That had been last night and now it was daylight again, and Iolaus was burning up. Herc looked down at him, curled in the filthy straw, his wounds inflamed. His partner appeared to be deeply unconscious, his breathing harsh and ragged. With a sense of panic, Hercules realized Iolaus could die if something wasn't done for him soon. Turning back to the door, gripping the bars, cursing his inability to tear the place apart, Hercules bellowed, "I need blankets, water, clean cloths and medicinal herbs...NOW! Do you HEAR ME! If you don't bring what I need, he'll die...and the deal's off!"

Looking up toward the ceiling, he shouted in rage, "Do you HEAR me, HERA! The deal was my strength for his life...so you'd better make damned sure he stays alive!"

Frustrated at his helplessness, Hercules kicked and pounded at the door until, finally, two guards appeared bearing what he's demanded. No food, but at least they brought the basic supplies required to give Iolaus the care he needed. Herc treated his friend's wounds, bathed him with cool water to fight the fever, wrapped Iolaus in the blankets and forced water into him, one drop at a time. Hour after hour, throughout the long day and an even longer night, he fought against the infection and the fever with a desperate resolve.

He was not going to lose Iolaus...he needed him too much. Iolaus was the best man he knew, the only person in his life who Herc knew would never let him down...the one person Hercules had always respected without question or hesitation. He knew Iolaus could act with stubborn thoughtlessness sometimes, and he could be impetuous in jumping to conclusions. He wasn't perfect. But, he was brave, and he cared about other people, more than he cared about himself. He was resilient, and despite everything he had ever endured, he still found an almost childlike joy in life...a joy that was contagious. Iolaus didn't deserve to be trapped in this damned cell, sick with injuries he'd been awarded for no other reason than that he wouldn't let Hercules stand alone against the gods. He had never deserved any of the abuse he had suffered in his too short life.

Holding his friend, trying to ease his discomfort, Herc reflected that his buddy wasn't even twenty years old yet. Dammit it. Dammit it all...he was not going to die in this cold, dreary cell! At the thought of losing his partner, Hercules felt a hollow emptiness, a sinking inside, and his breath caught in anguish and helpless dread. Tears of anticipated loss clouded his vision, and even when he tried, he couldn't for the life of him imagine any kind of future without Iolaus' laughter and courage, steadfast friendship and compassion. The very thought of losing Iolaus left him with the sense of spiralling into darkness.

To stop his rising panic, Hercules told himself it wouldn't happen, he wouldn't ever let his buddy go. He had connections...maybe his damned family would be good for something after all. He'd make Hades give Iolaus back to him. He vowed to himself, then, that Iolaus would never die, not if he ever had any way of preventing it, of staving off the soulcrushing horror of that inevitability.

But, in his heart, Herc knew he had no control over the gods, and his fear for Iolaus' life just wouldn't let go. Hercules understood in that moment that Iolaus was a part of him, integral, essential...and that the loss of Iolaus would rip something from his life that truly could never be replaced, something more profound and more vital to his being than even his physical strength had been. Iolaus was the light of his world, the warmth of his heart and the fire in his soul. It was Iolaus who tempered his dark immortal side and gave him access to his own humanity. Herc didn't understand it, but he felt the truth of it deep inside. Without Iolaus, he could never be whole.

His hot tears spilled over onto his cheeks then, as he hugged Iolaus tightly against him, whispering desperately to the unconscious man in his arms, "Don't leave me...please, Iolaus, don't ever leave me...."

When Iolaus next woke enough to be aware of his surroundings, he found himself bundled in a blanket, cradled against his friend's chest and Herc was holding some blessedly cool water to his lips. He drank gratefully and then faded out again, shivering with cold, burning with fever, his back raging with pain.

Finally, in the cold hours before dawn, the fever broke. Hercules heaved a sigh of profound relief, dizzy with the realization they had passed the crucible and that Iolaus wasn't going to die. He gazed fondly down at his partner's face, relaxed now as Iolaus settled into a more natural, healing sleep. But, his sense of overwhelming relief was shortlived. This wasn't the end of it. They still had to get through the battle. At best, they had two days before they had to face their opponents...gods, Iolaus had to be strong enough by then, strong enough to fight. But, if he couldn't, Herc resolved to fight for the both of them.

They were both going to walk away from here, whole, intact...or neither of them would.

An hour later, Iolaus woke to the fractured light of a flickering torch burning somewhere out in the hall beyond the locked door. He had some dim memories of Hercules wiping his body with a cool cloth, trying to fight the fever, but it was all more like fragments of a dream than real memories. Herc was holding him, brushing damp hair back from his forehead. He didn't feel so hot and realized the fever must have broken.

Noticing that he was awake, Hercules again held a mug of water to his buddy's lips. After Iolaus had had enough, Herc settled him more comfortably in his arms, asking softly, "How're you doing?"

"Great," Iolaus rasped, "Ready to take on a hundred guys. Just point me in the right direction."

Herc chuckled at that, relieved that Iolaus was finally conscious and cracking a joke. 'Cause he was joking...he couldn't have taken on a day old puppy at that point, and they both knew it.

"Well, thankfully, you won't have to wage battle for another day at least. I think they hold the 'games' the day before the sacrifice, to build the suspense," Hercules said.

"Okay, I can wait," his buddy replied, wishing he didn't feel so boneless. "The fever's broken," Iolaus told him, his voice holding only a faint whisper of its usual vibrance and vitality.

"I know...it was about time. Just sleep, Iolaus...you're going to be fine," Herc murmured, sounding exhausted.

Iolaus felt guilty then, realizing Hercules probably hadn't slept at all, kept busy taking care of him. 'A fine pair we'll make when it finally comes time to fight,' he thought, but was too tired to really worry about it just then. Settling against Hercules, Iolaus drifted back into Morpheus' realm.

* * *

No matter if the sun don't shine, or if the skies are blue, no matter what the ending, my life began with you...'

Herc was right. The guards left them alone for another full day and night, bringing water, but still no food. Iolaus was pretty weak, still, the first morning that he woke without the fever, and didn't do much more than doze for most of the day. But, he was at least able to stand on his own two feet the next morning.

'Good thing, too,' he thought, 'it would have been embarrassing to be carried out to wage the battle for my own life.' The downside was that he was well enough to know he was starving, that they both were. Sighing, Iolaus consoled himself that one way or another, he wouldn't be hungry for much longer. It was just one more thing to ignore until the battle was over. He was just very glad he was in good enough condition to fight.

But, still, Iolaus knew he was far from being in top form. Gazing over at Herc, he said with a firm confidence, "You're going to be okay out there. You don't need the strength of ten men to take on this bunch. Sometimes the strength of a mortal is all you need."

Hercules gazed back at him, and nodded, as he replied very seriously. "I know...you've been proving that to me for as long as I can remember."

Iolaus looked away at that, touched, embarrassed. "Yeah, well, like I said, you'll be fine."

"So will you," Herc said firmly.

His buddy nodded, but without much conviction. He was still too weak, and his usual boundless stamina couldn't be counted on in the battle ahead. Iolaus knew there might not be a happy ending for both of them. "Herc, you know I'll do my best...but, well, if they wear me down, I want you to know...."

Hercules cut his friend off, "I don't want to hear it, Iolaus...we're both getting out of this, or neither of us are."

Iolaus scratched his head. Damn bugs. "Well, yeah, I knew you'd say that. But we should face facts," he persevered, trying to keep his tone reasonable. "I'm not going to be able to last in a long fight. And I don't want you doing something noble and heroic to protect me. There's no point in both of us getting killed. Whatever happens, I want you to know..."

Herc stood abruptly and turned to face the wall, his back rigid. "I told you...I don't want to hear it."

"...being with you is all that's ever really mattered to me," Iolaus continued, ignoring him. Just because Herc didn't want to hear it didn't mean Iolaus wasn't going to say it. "And, if this is the end of the road, well, it's a road I chose to walk." There, he'd said it. He was finished.

Hercules slumped then, and turned back to face his best friend. He hadn't needed Iolaus to spell it out to know his buddy was going to have a tough time sustaining the energy and strength needed to win the battle they faced, that his partner's survival was not guaranteed. "How can you think that makes what might happen out there any easier? Gods, Iolaus, you're my best friend. Don't you understand? I don't want to 'walk that road' if you're not beside me."

Iolaus had never understood how much it was who he was that made Herc strive to be the best he could be. But, Hercules could never seem to find the words to tell him.

For a long moment, Iolaus just studied his friend, wishing he could find a way to make this easier for Herc, then he said quietly, "Sometimes being a hero means you have to do what you don't want to do...because it's what you were born to do. It's who you are, Herc. The people out there need you. With or without your strength, you'll always be their hero. You have to keep going." It was hard to talk about this stuff, but Iolaus needed Herc to understand...he needed to know Hercules would be all right, no matter what happened.

"Yeah, well, we all need our heroes, Iolaus. If I have to keep going, so do you," Hercules replied, swallowing hard, his voice husky. "I can't face it all without you."

"Well," his buddy sighed, as if he'd missed Herc's meaning, letting it go, "let's hope we don't have to find out whether that's true or not."

But, Iolaus had understood what Hercules had just said, that he was Hercules' hero, as amazing and impossible as that idea was to him. Iolaus had to steady his breathing at that, and blink pretty hard. He didn't know if Herc knew he'd gotten his message...or how much it meant to him, would always mean to him. Iolaus knew he'd die before he would ever let Hercules down.

But, at that moment, for the first time, he knew Hercules really needed him to live.

Hercules had been watching the expressions of wonder and realization play over his friend's expressive face and thought that, maybe, just maybe, Iolaus was beginning to understand the depth of what Hercules felt for him, and how much he mattered, the difference he made in Herc's life. If so, good. It was a beginning. They had their whole lives for Herc to show him how important he was, how much he was valued. But, first, they had to win the battle. And, Iolaus had to go out there believing he was going to win, not just do his best but expect to fail.

"Listen to me, Iolaus," Hercules said then, his voice low, almost hoarse in its intensity, "we are going to go out there, and we are going to win. I don't want to hear any more of that crap about not being able to 'last a long battle'! Even half dead, you'd be able to walk all over them. You've told me, more than once, that the skills we have are more than a match for theirs. More importantly, you've told me that what we are doing is right, even necessary. If we don't show these people that Hera can be resisted, then who can? Next week's sacrifice?"

"Herc, I..." Iolaus began, wanting to just agree, but Herc was afraid he was going to argue, so just kept on going, refusing to be interrupted.

"I'm not finished yet," the demigod said firmly, "and I want you to hear me out. We are going to go out there and watch each other's back, and do whatever we have to do to defeat them. And, after that, we are going to walk out of this damned town together...and, then, we're going to answer every call for help, take on every bad guy, every monster and anything or anyone else who is tromping all over innocent people, and we're going to beat them, too. Because, you know what, Iolaus, nobody can beat the two of us. Not when we're standing together. Now, I'm finished."

"Okay," Iolaus said, nodding.

"What?" Herc asked, expecting Iolaus to come back with more of the reasons why Herc shouldn't get his hopes too high about his buddy's capacity to last the battle.

"I said, 'okay'," Iolaus replied, then let a slow grin light his face. "When you're right, you're right. They don't stand a chance against us...nobody does. We're going to kick their butts."

Hercules found himself relaxing for the first time in days, and he couldn't resist responding to Iolaus' bright grin with a smile of his own, his eyes dancing. "Well, good," he said, with a decisive nod, "I'm glad we agree."

Iolaus snickered, then said impishly, "Ah, Herc...just one thing. Do you think we could find something to eat before we leave town? I don't know about you, but I'm a little hungry."

Hercules laughed, moving across the cell to put his arm around his buddy's shoulders. "Well," he said, with a patient sigh, "I guess if you insist, yeah...we can get something to eat first before we hit the road."

They laughed warmly together, then sat down by the wall to wait. They both knew Herc's words were designed to boost their morale, but they also both believed in the truth of them. To keep themselves focused on what came next after they had won, as opposed to worrying about the forthcoming battle itself, they passed the time deciding what they wanted to eat, and then the direction they would head in when they left town. That is, if Iolaus ever finally finished eating, Herc teased him, only too familiar with his friend's capacity to pack away unbelievable amounts of food, given the chance, let alone after he had been starved for a week.

They were laughing in high good spirits, when the guards came for them not long after that, to hustle them down the long stone corridor, out into the blazing sun of the arena. There were twelve armed men waiting for them out there, wearing armour, carrying both swords and spears, and three of them were mounted. As they watched the two young heroes walk confidently out into the arena, the guards shook their heads, wondering at these two and the laughter they had interrupted. The kids had to be crazy, light-headed with hunger, to be so unconcerned with what faced them. It was too bad, really...they seemed like they were probably good kids. Too bad they couldn't win. Too bad they would inevitably be sacrificed on the morrow. But, that's the way life is sometimes. Not fair, but what could anyone do about it?

The stands were crowded, the faces of the people watching sullen and ashamed. It was only too clear these weren't happy worshippers, glorying in a battle waged at Hera's will. They were hostages, too, herded there by the soldiers, not daring to refuse to participate as witnesses to this horror show.

But, the townspeople were also caught by the energy and poise of the two young men who walked confidently out into the sun. These were not the beaten down victims they'd expected to see...not the men who had been dragged unconscious from the whipping posts less than a week before. They were the men who had easily and swiftly beaten the soldiers who had escorted them into town. Settling back to watch, more than a few thought this battle might well be worth witnessing. With surrepticious glances toward the loathsome High Priest, they certainly hoped so.

"Nothing like an even fight," Hercules muttered sarcastically in disgust.

"I know, but we have the advantage," Iolaus replied, studying the forces arrayed against them.

"Advantage?" Hercules choked, looking at him like he was mad. "What advantage?"

"Think about it, Herc. The sacrifices are supposed to be alive...they can't fight to kill. If we have to, we can," Iolaus replied, knowing how much Herc hated to kill anyone, letting him know he might well have to before this day was over.

"Right," his friend acknowledged, getting the message, blowing out a long breath.

They moved out to the centre of the ring. By rights, they should have been dizzy with hunger but the energy that comes before a battle is a wonderful thing. It masks whatever pain you feel, makes you feel fully alive and ready for anything. It couldn't last...but they were starting as fresh as if the beatings and deprivation had never happened. And, Hercules and Iolaus knew they were better than the soldiers were, so their confidence was almost a tangible thing. That knowledge lent them courage, and a visible strength that frankly surprised the armed men facing the two young heroes and gave the soldiers pause. The soldiers had heard that these two men had bested Hera's goon squad...and they knew for a fact that the two warriors had trashed twenty of their comrades less than a week before, without even working up a sweat.

A couple of the foot soldiers shifted nervously.

'Score one for the good guys,' Iolaus thought. Battles are never just physical...there is always a psychological element to them. A lot of winning results from the other guy believing he might lose.

"You have been judged guilty of heresy and sacrilege, and now you must fight for your freedom," the High Priest's voice rang out, drawing all eyes to him. "The battle will continue until one side or the other is defeated. If you win, you may walk away. If you lose, you will be sacrificed to Hera tomorrow at dawn."

"Nice of him to make it all so clear," Iolaus muttered, turning away from the priest to face the warriors ranged against them. "When the horses come at us, charge at them, yelling and waving your arms, then dive away just before they hit you," he instructed quietly. Iolaus didn't want Herc forgetting he couldn't stop a racing horse with his strong right arm, like he could in the good old days.

"Whatever you say," Hercules replied, readying for the charge. "Back to back?"

"You got it, buddy, back to back." Iolaus affirmed with steadfast assurance.

A horn blew a long, lonely blast, and then the soldiers were charging at them, two horsemen in the lead, the foot soldiers charging behind, one mounted warrior holding back, watching for his moment.

The two young, unarmed, unarmoured heroes charged the soldiers at the same time, throwing them into some confusion. They'd expected their victims to run, to be chased around the arena, until they cornered the two young men like rats. The soldiers had not expected them to race straight at them like demons, ready to take whatever came at them. The horses reared in startled confusion at their screams and waving arms, as they each dove clear of the flashing hooves, rolling up to lash out with their feet at the nearest foot soldiers, aiming to disarm them.

They needed weapons, and needed them badly.

In moments, both Herc and Iolaus had swords in their hands, and were lashing out in fury at those who attacked them. It was harder for the heroes to mark the soldiers, covered as they were in armour, than it was for the soldiers to mark them, bare from the waist up, skin glistening with sweat that was soon streaked with blood as their enemies' weapons nicked and scratched. But, Hercules and Iolaus made their hits, and so long as they were back to back in the midst of the warriors, the horsemen couldn't get at them.

Or so they'd hoped.

They'd gotten separated a bit in the melee. Iolaus had just wounded a man badly enough that he'd collapsed with a scream when the blond looked up and around, to place Herc and get back to where he belonged. His heart froze when he saw the cocked arrow ready to be unleashed by one of the horsemen, aimed at Herc's broad back.

"Hercules!" Iolaus screamed in warning, but there wasn't time for his friend to turn...and Herc was too occupied with the men in front of him anyway to even hear the yell of warning. Desperately, Iolaus lunged three fast steps and leapt to get between Hercules and the threat.

The arrow and Iolaus arrived at the same place at the same time, and the blond hero cried out as it buried itself deep in his shoulder. He dropped and rolled to his knees, knowing that Herc had been distracted, having heard him that time. Well, he'd yelled practically in his buddy's ear. Not too subtle.

"Iolaus!" Hercules shouted, alarmed, as he stood over him and fended off all comers. "How bad?"

"Not bad," Iolaus grated, grimacing with pain as he snapped the shaft of the arrow. He grabbed his sword from where it had fallen in the dust beside him and stood, the two of them again back to back.

"You okay?" Hercules called over his shoulder, as his sword clanged against another.

"I'll live," Iolaus reassured him, as he danced away from one thrust and countered with a backward slash. But, Iolaus wasn't at all sure how much longer he was going to be able to last. He was beginning to feel dizzy, and he knew he was slowing down. Even more worrying was the fact the soldier had risked letting the arrow fly. The blond warrior was afraid that, in their own fear and anger at the injuries being inflicted upon them, the soldiers were losing their grip on their orders not to kill the two of them. Hera was getting the blood she thirsted for in that hot arena, but not yet the blood she really wanted.

Still, Hercules and Iolaus were holding their own...better than that. Six of the soldiers were down and the heroes were still standing.

From the corner of his eye, Iolaus saw the last horseman begin his charge, spear at the ready. "Horseman coming," he shouted, "Get ready to dive when I yell!"

"Right," Hercules called back, busy with the two men still fighting in front of him.

It was then that all Tarturus broke loose.

Iolaus caught a glance of the little dog bolting across the field across the horseman's path, but too far ahead for either the horse or his rider to notice.

And then he saw the little tyke charging out from the stands, frightened for his pet, wanting to save it, oblivious of his own danger. Dear gods, the horse would run him down!

"Herc!" Iolaus screamed, torn between his need to guard his buddy's back and the equally urgent need to save the child, "there's a kid on the field!"

Herc threw a quick glance over his shoulder, taking in the danger immediately, and shouted, "GO!"

Pushing hard against the man in front of him, Iolaus shoved him aside and down with the sheer force of his will, clipping the soldier's head with the pommel of his sword to keep him down and away from Herc's back. He pelted toward the child, shouting at him to turn back...but the kid didn't hear him. The horseman just figured Iolaus was trying the same trick they'd used earlier and kept coming, ready for the small blond warrior to dive aside, determined to stop him.

Herc had thrown another quick glance over his shoulder, and saw that it would be a close thing...and, distracted by the need to save the child, Iolaus would be at great risk from the charging horseman and that deadly spear in his hand. Hercules wanted to scream out a warning, wishing he could call his friend back from such certain danger, but he knew Iolaus had to try to save the child. No matter how much his heart wanted his buddy to stop, his soul knew Iolaus had no choice.

And, neither did he. He had to get to Iolaus, back him up against the horseman, and he didn't have any more time to waste with these guys who were still challenging him.

Hercules fought back against his oppressors with a fierce, irresistable fury, beating the men in front of him into the dirt in a matter of seconds. He jumped over the guy Iolaus had knocked out as he thundered by, tearing after his friend across the dusty ground.

A woman was screaming in the stands, while everyone else just held their breath, understanding that both heroes had set aside the risk to themselves in the need to save the child. The other horsemen had spotted the kid, but could only watch, too far away to wave off their comrade, who remained oblivious to the little boy racing across his path. The soldiers who were able, staggered to their feet and also watched the stark drama play out.

Iolaus threw himself forward, grabbing the kid just before the horse reached them, and dove away from the sharp, pounding hooves, stumbling, losing precious moments as he pushed the kid well away before he twisted to face the mounted warrior. But, the horseman had been ready for him, and lunged down, the spear taking Iolaus in the back, deep along his right side, driving him to the ground.

Hercules leapt high in the air over his downed partner, his sword swinging, scarcely thinking in fear and fury, as he slammed the flat of the blade down against the soldier's arm, breaking it. Curled on the ground, Iolaus saw it all happening, but stunned by shock, to him everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He didn't feel the pain yet, just the strange, overwhelming weakness of shock caused by the brutal injury. Maddened, Herc pushed the horse away, then dropped to the dust beside his best friend, pulling Iolaus' head and shoulders gently forward onto his knees as Hercules leaned over him to see how badly he'd been hurt.

"Take it out," Iolaus gasped, grimacing with the pain that was starting to burn through the shock. The weight of the spear was dragging it down, the blade inside his body tearing something he didn't want to think about.

"Not yet," Hercules muttered grimly as he reached to secure the spear, stabilizing it with one hand while he held his sword high, keeping a wary eye on the other horsemen and the soldiers. "If I do, you'll bleed to death."

The arena had gone deadly quiet, except for the sobs of the frightened child. The warriors stood still, watching, uncertain, unwilling to fight more that day. They knew they could now overpower Hercules if they attacked while he tried to protect his partner...but they'd had enough. As soldiers, they respected the two young heroes. These guys didn't deserve to be sacrificed...they deserved to win the battle they had fought so courageously, with such skill, only to falter now for having saved the life of an innocent child.

A man and a woman raced out from the crowd, to take their child into their arms, to make sure he was all right.

The man, having been assured his son was uninjured, then turned and walked toward the heroes. "It's over," he called, his voice ringing out, "you've won."

"No!" shrieked the Priest. "They've lost...and they will be sacrificed at dawn!"

Iolaus chuckled at his determined persistence, then subsided with a gasp, deciding laughing just then wasn't a great idea. The pain had finally fully broken through the shock of the injury, much to his regret. Herc, laying his bloody sword in the dirt, circled his right arm around Iolaus' shoulders, gripping him tightly as he continued to stabilize the spear with his other hand.

The priest was furious at all that had occurred. These two men had been whipped and starved. They should have been easily defeated. Instead, they were victorious. And, he was very frightened. Hera would hold him responsible for this failure, and would make him pay dearly for it. Well, he would make certain Hera had her sacrifice...it would just be a day early. Ruthlessly, he turned to the soldier assigned as his escort for the day, commanding, "Shoot them. Hercules first, and then the other one. I want them both dead."

The soldier hesitated a moment, but an order was an order. He pulled an arrow from his quiver, sighted it, and let it fly, the 'thrunnnggggg' of his bowstring loud in the unnatural silence of the arena.

Herc's head flashed up at the sound, and he had to let loose the grip he had on Iolaus' shoulders to pluck the deadly missile from the air. His eyes cold with a terrible fury, he stared into the eyes of the priest as his fingers snapped the haft of the arrow in two, as if it had been no more than a matchstick, then he contemptuously dropped the splintered pieces onto the dusty earth.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered as a rumbling sound started and grew, a muffled roar of outrage which escalated in volume as it rose to the sky. The crowd was furious and appalled by the priest's final act of murderous cruelty. These men had won their battle...it was over.

"Enough!" they roared as if with one voice. "Enough...we've had enough! The man sacrificed himself for the child. It's finished!" And, in their hearts, they meant more than the battle. They were finished with Hera, shouting out their defiance.

One person stepped forward, then another, and another, until the crowd was streaming away from the sidelines to stand around and over the heroes...shielding them from further harm. One man held out a bunched up shirt to use as an improvised bandage, while another knelt beside them. "My name is Jonas, and I'm a healer," he said to Hercules as he rapidly assessed Iolaus' wound.

Herc watched the healer wrap his hands around the shaft of the spear and nodded, gripping Iolaus tightly. The blond warrior couldn't help the groan as Jonas pulled the long blade from his body, much as he tried to choke it back. He felt someone press cloth to the streaming wound, and dimly heard another voice say, "Bring him this way."

"Hold on, Iolaus," Herc murmured to him, then picked his friend up and carried him through the crowd, following the man out of the arena.

'Funny, Herc's arms feel as strong as they ever did....' was Iolaus' last thought as he faded out.

* * *

Iolaus woke in what he was to later learn was the best chamber in the local inn. His shoulder, arm, side and back were swathed in bandages, and the pain was sharp but manageable. A single candle flickered on a table under the window. Herc was on a chair beside the bed, and he looked like he might be sleeping, but Iolaus smiled weakly when he realized Herc was keeping a strong grip on his hand.

"Herc?" Iolaus whispered weakly.

Hercules jumped and straightened at the welcome sound of his friend's voice, immediately leaning toward his buddy, his free hand reaching out to brush the hair from Iolaus' face. His own face looked shadowed and gaunt from worry. "Hey," he said softly, "you're awake...finally."

Iolaus nodded, but that just made the room spin, and he winced against the nausea that sensation invoked. He felt the grip on his hand tighten, as Hercules read the pain and disorientation in his eyes.

"Thirsty," he muttered, finding it hard to keep his eyes open.

Hercules held a mug with some kind of awful herbal tea in it to Iolaus' lips as he supported his friend's head. Making a face at the smell, Iolaus drank some, but it was really bitter, so he couldn't stand much of it, and turned his head away.

"It's good for you," Herc encouraged, wanting him to take more.

"Later," his buddy compromised, swallowing. Then, trying to speak more strongly, he murmured with a ghost of a smile, "Tastes terrible."

Hercules grinned at that, relieved at the familiar complaint and the attempt at humour. "You had me worried," he confided, leaning back and putting the mug on the floor beside him, once again taking his friend's hand in his strong grip. Iolaus returned the grip with a slight squeeze of his fingers, knowing some part of Hercules believed that so long as the demigod held onto him, he couldn't slip away. Iolaus more than half believed it, too.

"Sorry," Iolaus offered, in part for causing his friend anxiety, in part for having been injured in the first place.

Understanding, Herc shook his head with a reassuring smile. "It's all right...so long as you get better."

"No worries," his friend muttered, before slipping back to sleep.

* * *

Iolaus was a little more alert the next morning, and learned the spear had grazed along the bottom of his ribs to his hip, tearing through skin and muscle. He'd lost a lot of blood, but as it was only a long but shallow wound, it hadn't done any irreparable damage. The wound in his shoulder from the arrow wasn't any more serious, so it seemed he would be good as new in a couple of weeks. Good enough to travel by then anyway, for which he was heartily glad. He didn't much care for this town, and wanted to leave as soon as he felt able.

Herc told him that the story of how they'd rescued the farmer, Locacius, a popular man as it turned out, had spread while they had been held in the cell. The citizens didn't like the idea of the young men being set up for sacrifice for the 'crime' of having protected one of their own. The sacrifices of strangers over the past year had sickened them, horrified them even, but they hadn't normally been forced to watch. So long as they didn't have to see it, they could regret it, feel guilty about it, but could try to pretend there was nothing they could do about it.

But, Hercules and Iolaus had been different. They had challenged Hera's warriors directly. She had decided they would pay dearly for their insolence, and she had wanted a crowd to see them humbled, to see them die.

So, the townspeople had been driven by the soldiers to watch the battle, hating every moment of it, but beginning to hope as the fighting wore on that the heroes might actually prevail. And, then, the kid had raced across the field, and the young warriors had set their own interests aside to save the child. That had finished it for them... they couldn't stand by any longer and pretend nothing evil was going on in their town. They were forced to either make their own stand or watch the selfless heroes be cut down at the orders of the repulsive priest.

Some part of Iolaus could understand their hesitation to intervene over the past year, their fear of Hera, but he couldn't forgive their spinelessness. In his view, they were accessories to the murders of dozens of innocent people, whether they wanted to face that fact or not. He didn't make a big deal of it, knowing it was in his friend's nature to forgive and forget, but Iolaus wanted to put this town far behind them as soon as possible. Still, he remained civil to those he encountered, grateful that the townfolk had finally interceded and had quite likely saved their lives by doing so. He was also very glad to hear they had run the crazy priest out of town, and that they had apparently whitewashed the 'temple', intending to convert it into a hostel for travellers.

Much to everyone's surprise as the days went by, the jealous goddess hadn't retaliated at their revolt. When Iolaus thought about it, and he had a lot of time to think while he laid in that bed, he figured Zeus had probably called a halt to her game. She'd claimed Herc's strength, and his buddy's father couldn't have been too happy about that, for all that he hadn't intervened. But, there was no way of knowing for sure. Sighing, Iolaus thought that the gods had pretty short attention spans. She was probably off causing trouble somewhere else.

In the years ahead, both Hercules and Iolaus would come to see that Hera could only push Zeus so far, before he'd finally have enough and end it, whatever it was...unfortunately, tragically, they would also learn that he rarely stepped in soon enough to prevent the devastating results of her relentless fury.

Herc came and went, bringing his partner food, hovering while the healer checked his wounds, sighing with relief when Iolaus was pronounced to be well on the road to recovery. They had gotten off lucky. It could have been a lot worse.

But, Iolaus couldn't shake the feeling inside that the costs had been too high. Herc had given up his strength for him, and Iolaus didn't know how to get it back. Knew he couldn't. And felt sick about it.

For the first couple of days, Hercules passed off his friend's despondency as a natural reaction to the weakness caused by his wounds. But, when he caught Iolaus trying to fake the usual sunny grin, Herc called him on it.

"What's wrong, Iolaus? Something's eating at you, I can see it," he observed, frowning with concern. Part of getting better is strength of will and determination. Herc knew that, and was afraid his friend was just going to make himself worse if he didn't snap out of what was bothering him.

Iolaus looked away, studying the wall as if it was fascinating. Finally, he looked back, saying quietly, "She took your strength, Herc...she stole part of you. I just wish I could so something to make her give it back."

Hercules' eyes softened, and he smiled slowly, realizing Iolaus was still beating himself up, blaming himself for what had happened, glad to put his buddy's mind at rest. "It's okay, Iolaus...it's back," he said simply.

"What?" Iolaus exclaimed, struggling to sit up, so that Hercules had to push him back down before he hurt himself in his surprise. Iolaus was almost afraid to believe him, afraid Herc was humouring him until he was better. Just so that he wouldn't worry anymore...or feel guilty...but the strength in the hands that pushed him down was too familiar, and welcome, to be a lie. Iolaus could have sobbed with relief.

"Hey, easy buddy," Herc murmured, then continued. "I didn't realize it myself, but it seems when I surrendered, I said something about agreeing to fight as a mortal...so she could only take my strength until the fight was over. I guess she'd hoped we be defeated, in which case, she wouldn't have had to give it back. But, we won."

"Gods...really?" Iolaus demanded, aching with relief, wanting to be sure despite the evidence he could feel in Herc's reassuring grip on his shoulder.

"Really," Hercules assured him. "I felt it flow back into me when I caught the arrow. I guess that signalled the end of the battle in some way. I'm sorry...I should have told you sooner," he said, with a chagrined look of regret, sorry that the delay had left his buddy worrying.

'Gods, Herc can be sorry about just about anything,' Iolaus thought, shaking his head, wondering at the subtle nuances in the challenges the gods posed. "How do you know that's what happened...why it happened?"

Hercules just shrugged. "I don't know...not for sure. But, the captain of the guard, remember him? Well, he recalled what the priest had said, and what I had responded in the square the first day, both of us linking the surrender of my strength to the battle. And, later, he overheard the Priest laughing to himself about 'the games gods play.' He told me that he believed the priest knew exactly what the terms of the surrender were but wasn't about to make them clear. And, he told me that he was sorry to have ever been a part of it all in the first place."

Iolaus grinned cheekily then. "He's probably just afraid you'll beat him up for it, and wants to get on your good side."

Herc grinned back. "Could be," he shrugged, "who cares? It's back and we're both going to be fine."

* * *

It was ten days later that Iolaus finally persuaded Herc that he was strong enough to move on. Hercules agreed, provided his friend promised to take it slow.

"Fine," Iolaus assured him, "so long as we can go."

As they ambled out of town, Iolaus raised the subject for the last time. "Herc," he ventured, easing into it, "I never really thanked you for what you did back there...."

Hercules turned, one brow raised, wondering what his buddy was talking about. "In the arena?" he asked, thinking Iolaus meant when he'd driven off the horseman, and stood guard over him while Iolaus had laid bleeding across his knees.

"No...before that. Well, that, too, I guess, and for taking care of me when I was sick...but, I really meant when you volunteered to give up your strength in the first place, to save my life," Iolaus explained, not looking at him.

Herc just shook his head, and turned to carry on along the road. "Anytime, Iolaus, don't mention it," he said, as if it had been nothing.

But, his buddy wasn't willing to leave it there. "No, Herc...please," Iolaus called after him, the compelling tone of his voice making the demigod pause and turn back. "I don't want you to ever do that again."

Hercules just studied his best friend for a minute, then sighed. "Iolaus...you took an arrow for me back there, to save my life. Will you promise never to do that again, or in any other way risk your life for mine, if I promise not to trade my strength for your life again?"

"Well...no," Iolaus had to admit, albeit reluctantly.

"Fine...when you're ready to promise that, then ask me again. Until then, let it go," Herc's voice was calm, but his partner heard a steely resolve under the mild tone. And, that was the end of it as far as Herc was concerned...he wasn't going to debate the matter.

Reluctantly, Iolaus nodded, and they continued on along the road. He supposed that he should be grateful that Hercules hadn't gone back to his original concerns about the risks of being his partner, had apparently truly accepted that Iolaus would travel with him regardless of the dangers. Well, it was a good thing, because Iolaus planned to stay right where he was, at Herc's side, watching his back, no matter what...even if someday that meant paying the ultimate price, the price of his own life. Iolaus didn't really understand the complexies of all of his feelings about Hercules, but he held the conviction in his heart that he had been born to be Herc's partner, and without Hercules, his own life held no meaning, no purpose, only emptiness ...and he might as well be dead.

'But,' he thought with a sideways glance at his companion, 'I can't be careless...reckless with my life, because, once I'm gone, Herc'll be on his own with no one watching out for him.' Iolaus felt a surge of warm emotion fill him when he remembered his realization in the cell that Hercules really did need him, and for the first time Iolaus let himself fully believe that his own life had value, had worth.

Content, Iolaus gazed around at the world with a sense of wonder and undiluted happiness...and he started to whistle.

Iolaus was right in his assumption. Hercules had come to terms with the fear he felt for Iolaus' safety, because he knew he really had no choice. He had realized during those hours in the cell, when he had been terrified that Iolaus might die, that he needed Iolaus in more ways than he could name, and he quite simply just couldn't imagine a life without this irreplaceable, and irrepressible, friend by his side.

But, Herc had not come lightly to his acceptance of the risks a life with him posed for Iolaus. He knew Iolaus could handle anything the world might throw at him, but Hercules worried about the dangers posed by the gods, dangers beyond Iolaus' mortal abilities to defend against. He'd thought about it long and hard while Iolaus had been dozing off and on in the cell, recovering from the fever. Finally, Hercules had resolved the issue in his own mind by vowing to himself that he would stand between his friend and the wrath of the gods, no matter what, even if the cost was his own life...without Iolaus, he couldn't be truly alive anyway.

But, Herc didn't really think it would ever come to that very final outcome, convinced as he was that together, they made an unbeatable team. While he was watching out for Iolaus, he knew Iolaus would be watching out for him, and while Herc held off the gods, his quickwitted friend would be coming up with some scam to get them out of whatever mess they might be in at the time. As his eyes drifted over the fields around them and the mountains in the distance, he remembered Iolaus' words as they had set out on this journey of life together, his buddy's assurances that it would be 'fun'. Nodding to himself, Hercules finally knew it would be.

When Iolaus started to whistle off-key, Herc could only smile, the jaunty tune lifting his heart, the sound of Iolaus' voice warming his world, giving him a sense of confident security that no matter what they might face in the future, everything would be all right.

Neither one of them could even conceive of promising to give the other anything less than the best they each had to offer...up to and including their very lives. Far from it. In the silence of their own hearts, they each promised themselves to stand between their partner and whatever danger threatened. And, so long as they were together, they knew they could face anything and win. That commitment was what, who, they were, who they always would be...it was the foundation of their friendship and the bedrock of their partnership.

They could count on one another... no matter what.

'I can't deny what I believe, I can't be what I'm not. I know this love's forever...that's all that matters now, no matter what. No, no matter what, that's all that matters to me....'

Finis


End file.
